Deceptions
by DJ Sparkles
Summary: A new face appears in Sherwood after an attack on Guy of Gisborne. Intrigue and suspense abound. Guy/OFC, Little John/OFC. Rated mature for mentions of attempted rape and PTSD. AU, completely ignores series 3.
1. Chapter 1

**Dedicated to PirateColey for tireless brainstorming, research, and in general sounding board/freakout manager... to Starshinedogs for reading over and over again... and to Ithil-valon for endless reassurances and beta reading above and beyond the call. I love you guys.**

Tom stopped suddenly, listening. There were hoofbeats on the trail behind him and suddenly he dove into the underbrush, barely a rustle marking his passage. He watched, unseen, as the riders swept past, intent on tracking their quarry and he gave a silent chuckle at the thought they'd completely missed him. They certainly weren't very good at their jobs.

A hand clapped heavily across his mouth and the point of a dagger pressed between his shoulder blades. He went rigid in shock, struggling not to show his terror. "Not a sound if you value your life." The voice was a low growl, obviously male. Tom nodded assent and the hand left. "Up. Let's go."

He rose, going where he was pointed to. Of all the rotten luck, he had to be found by Robin Hood. Not that it mattered. He wasn't going to stay in the forest. If he could just make it to London, he would be safe and could stop running.

He sat on a log when ordered to, watching the others watch him. Hopefully his disguise was good enough.

"They're chasing you," Robin said simply as he moved around in front of him. "Why? What did you do?"

"Nothing. I just want to be free and it isn't allowed." That much was at least true. "But Gisborne doesn't want to let me go." Another mostly truth.

Robin nodded and Tom lowered his eyes quickly. This one was too smart to be fooled for long. "You can stay here, if you like," Robin continued and his head shot back up. "Under my orders, just as the rest of these men. We might be outlaws, but we are all free men." He extended a hand.

Tom gave the matter a little thought. He would be free. It would present certain other difficulties, but he thought he would be able to manage. Then another thought occurred to him and he nearly groaned aloud. "I haven't much of a choice, do I?" he asked quietly. He took the other's hand in acceptance.

"Not really, no." But Robin wore a smirk of satisfaction. "What's your name?" He settled himself on the other side of the fire, noting as he did so the quick scowl that crossed John's face and the concern in Much's. Will was watching as well, his expression carefully guarded as always. They had said nothing, and would stay silent, but obviously there was something about this boy they didn't like.

"Tom." He, too, had noticed the apparent discomfort of the others and sighed silently. Now that the bridge had been crossed, he wondered if he shouldn't have burned it first. There was no danger from Robin Hood, probably. But the others... they could be a real problem. Especially the big one.

"That's John, and this is Much. And that's Will." Robin looked around and then pointed to the short sword Tom wore. "How well can you use that?"

"Well enough." Tom shrugged. "And a bow, passably well, though I haven't got one."

"Let's hope you don't have to use one, then, before we can find one for you." Robin smirked again and offered Tom a strip of the meat they'd been dining on. Tom, in turn, rummaged in the bag he carried and drew out a small wedge of cheese to share, returning their hospitality. Robin's eyebrow raised but he said nothing of it.

And once they had been fed, and Tom had fallen asleep, Robin nodded to the others. "Tell me," he said quietly. "You've some problem with him, it's obvious."

"He's a spy, probably." Much shook his head.

Will said nothing, but John nodded agreement with Much. "There is something in him I do not like," he began slowly. "But I can't say what."

"He's not told us all the truth," Robin said slowly. "He's still hiding something. But I don't think he's a danger to us." He smirked suddenly. "The inch of truth. He has lied about nothing, but he also hasn't told the full truth. We'll need to watch him. Will, first watch, then Much, then John. We've a busy day tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

Tom rose early as was his way and found the big man sitting on the other side of the fire, apparently watching him as well as the forest. He gave a nod of greeting and went into the trees for a moment, returning quickly and going to sit by the fire as well. "You don't know me," he said quietly as he peered into the flames. "You've no reason to trust me. But I swear to you now I mean no harm."

John nodded and said nothing. They both stared into the dwindling flames as the fire died, silent, but at least half way comfortable. Finally John spoke, slow and deliberate. "You might not mean harm, but you'll bring it," he said simply. "Gisborne is chasing you. That puts us in even more danger if you're with us."

"Please," Tom scoffed. "He's been chasing you lot for how long now? He'll never catch you. I'm actually safer in your company." He let his gaze move to the big man, watching his face. Something was off there, something was wrong. "And when has Robin ever refused a challenge? This is nothing more than another risk, and he adores those."

John didn't nod. He was silent for a few moments more, considering. Tom was right; everyone knew how much Robin enjoyed tormenting the Sheriff and his Master at Arms. But this might just be too dangerous. "You'll need to be more careful," he finally rumbled. "A little more dirt on your hands and face. Anyone with sense is going to see through you, little girl."

"Girl? What? Are you mad?" Tom blustered as he rose, backing away. "I'm no girl." Trapped, the thought flashed through his mind. Well and truly trapped. And John was much quicker than a big man had any right to be as he grabbed a hand and pulled Tom back to the circle of firelight.

"Sit down." John's voice was soft still but commanding. Tom sat, mind whirling with ways to talk her way out of this. How had he known? She had been so careful! "I'll keep your secret," John was saying softly as he tipped her face up. "And I'll help you. Here." He held out a handful of ashes, still warm but not hurtfully so. "Smear those about. You're too clean. And those hands are small, not enough callouses." He waited until she'd complied and then tipped her face up. "Better."

Tom closed her eyes, unwilling to let him see the tears forming there. "And what price for your silence?" she asked softly. He was a man, he'd want something from her. Had she escaped Gisborne to merely find another master? Despair threatened and she shoved it down.

"Tell me why."

It certainly wasn't what she'd expected. It took her several seconds to find her voice, though her eyes never left his face. There was kindness there, and curiosity, but nothing else. He wasn't going to hurt her or demand anything she didn't wish to give.

"My father was killed in the Holy Land and my mother – she died of a broken heart. It made me a ward of the King, and in his absence, Prince John." She nearly spat at the thought. "He arranged a marriage for me in order to get me off his hands. I objected, he didn't care. So I objected a bit more strongly."

John snorted. "How strongly?" Both voices were kept quiet; they had no wish to wake the others. She, because one person knowing her charade was more than enough, and he to protect her.

"I stabbed my future husband." She was suddenly back in the castle at Nottingham, drawn to his quarters like an errant serving wench because she'd dared criticize the Sheriff's dinner conversation. That in itself shouldn't have been enough to warrant even a harsh word, much less her abrupt removal from the proceedings, but she had objected to the content. Torture and other similar subjects weren't fit dinner conversation in her opinion and she had told him so.

Gisborne had nearly dragged her to his quarters. Not her own, though they were closer. No, he'd been ordered to punish her and he'd wanted to do it in the privacy of his own rooms.

She'd begun to tremble and John watched as her face paled. "That's enough, then," he said reassuringly. The memory was obviously distressing to her and he'd not be the cause of it any longer. But a chuckle escaped him nonetheless and she glanced over at him, the spell broken and her fear once more banished. "You stabbed him. You, I like." He ruffled her hair slightly.

She stiffened at the touch and then gave a rueful smirk. "It wasn't enough. I didn't kill him."

John looked up then. "Dawn. Wake the others." He rose and stalked over to Robin, nudging him slightly with a toe while Tom went to shake Will and Much.

"We need food," Robin said with a yawn as he dropped next to the fire. Much nodded and Will gave one smooth up and down motion of his head and then was still again. "Tom, can you cook?"

"Not very well, but I'll try." She moved away from them and stoked up the fire, and then hung the kettle on a hastily improvised spit. "What have you got to put in it?"

They all looked at each other sheepishly. Then another voice rose from the edge of the clearing as a pair of rabbits dropped next to the fire. "It is a good thing you have me to look after you," Djaq called out cheerfully as she advanced into the camp. Will immediately rose and went to her, touching her hand lightly.

"I was beginning to worry," he said simply before falling silent again.

"I've been hiding from the Sheriff's men since before nightfall," she replied quietly as she came closer. Tom was already dressing out the rabbits she'd brought, dropping them into the pot to boil. Djaq raised one dark eyebrow at Robin. "They are desperate to find a young woman. Some say she stabbed Gisborne, some even that she killed him." She shrugged. "He's surprisingly able for a man on his deathbed. He leads his men on another search today."

Tom kept her attention on the pot, though John gave her a sharp glance. Robin snorted. "If the girl did stab him, obviously she didn't do a good enough job. He and his men were on the road after Tom here last night." He gestured toward the newcomer and Tom merely nodded a greeting. This woman might be a Saracen, but she was also observant. Tom hadn't missed the miniscule widening of her eyes when she'd seen Tom's face. Yes, she knew. The others, however, hadn't twigged to the fact yet that she was female and that was the way she wanted it.

"She stabbed him," Tom confirmed quietly, keeping her voice pitched low. Hopefully the other would understand and play along. "I was in the castle. He came staggering down the steps with one hand holding his belly and blood all over. Looking for her. Sent his men after her straight away, on all roads out of the castle and Nottingham proper." She was stirring the pot as she spoke, not looking at them. "But he was on his feet, which means she didn't do a good enough job. Just a scratch, most likely." She shrugged. "Here, this is what we've got. Hope it's edible. Just broth and meat, sorry."

"It's food." Much shouldered in with his bowl and took some of it, settling down to eat. The others chuckled at him and watched. "What?"

"They're waiting to make sure you aren't poisoned," Djaq said with a small smile. "Go on."

Tom gave a wordless growl and took some of it herself. "Right, then. Ask me to cook and then don't eat it. Starve if you like." Her voice was rising and she stifled the rest of what she wanted to say. She had to get control or she'd be in trouble.

John gave a bark of laughter and got his own and they ate in peace for a while. Finally Djaq spoke again. "The taxes are waiting in his armory," she said quietly as they gathered closer. "The guards watch all entrances and exits, all windows. We cannot get in."

"Then we bring it out." Robin gave them a smirk. "What can we do to that end?"

They all looked at each other. Tom cleared his throat. "A forged message, maybe?" Her voice was soft as she offered the suggestion.

"Wouldn't work, unless you know someone who could forge Gisborne's signature. Or the Sheriff's. He's hiring smarter guards." Robin shook his head. "So we have to be smarter still. Disguises, pose as the guards? No, that wouldn't work."

Plans were suggested and discarded quickly, each one more outrageous than the last. Tom had a fleeting glimpse of something that might work but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She couldn't. She'd die the minute she was seen. "I'll get some more wood," she said simply and stalked off into the forest.

Djaq rose to follow but so did John. Something passed between the two and Djaq sat back down next to Will, though her face was troubled.

John found Tom a bit farther away, out of sight of the others, pacing frantically. "Want to help, have to help, but he'll kill me. He'll kill me."

"Tom?" John wouldn't touch her, though she seemed lost in her own thoughts and didn't seem to see him. He'd seen her flinch at the barest brush of his fingers in her hair and he wouldn't distress her. "Tom. Tom, settle down. What's wrong?"

She stopped pacing and stared up at the sky, tears making tracks through the ash smeared on her face. John wanted to help her, to reassure her, but he didn't know how. Finally she stepped near enough to put one hand on his arm and scrubbed at her face with the other. Most of the ash was rubbed away and he felt uneasy about it. She was deliberately discarding her disguise and suddenly he was afraid for her. "You don't have to do this," he said softly. "Whatever it is you're thinking, you don't have to do."

"You lot need a way in. I can give you that." She stiffened her spine and dried her tears. She had to do this. She'd only been in their company for a day, but she had heard their reputation among the poor, and she had seen firsthand how they cared for each other. She had to help them and this was the only way she knew how. "Come on. We've got to tell them."


	3. Chapter 3

(Nottingham Castle)

Guy of Gisborne snarled at the physician as he attempted to clean the long slice across his stomach. It wasn't deep, for which he was grateful, but it was in a bad place and it shouldn't be there at all. "I underestimated the girl," he growled as he sent the man away and stalked across the room to slam his fist against the wall.

"Yes, well, of course you did," Sheriff Vaizey spat. "You underestimate everyone, Gisborne. Even Marian." He watched the knight's face set tight. "Oh, did I touch a nerve? Well lah di dah di dah. You're a fool, Guy. You should have known she'd try to stop you. Marian, that is. So you did what was necessary. Grow up! She was never going to choose you."

"We're not talking about Marian," Guy snapped back. "And we never will." Guilt still tore at him. But now was NOT the time. "We're discussing that dangerous little wench Prince John has bound me to by the laws of God and man." There was a bitter twist to his lips. "My wife."

"Oh, yes. That pretty little bit of a thing that YOU thought couldn't POSSIBLY refuse you!" Vaizey was on his feet, raging. "You were warned she was a handful, and you chose to think you could overpower her. And you failed again, Guy. You failed at something so simple as taking your wife. She nearly gutted you and she ran away."

"Oh, I'll find her." Gisborne's voice was soft and deadly. "And when I do, she'll learn obedience." He moved stiffly over to the table and poured out a generous measure of wine, drank it down, and poured another. Once it was also inside him, he sat down, brooding. "We'll be out again at first light. She won't escape me."

Vaizey lost all traces of amusement. "She already has, you idiot! I'm sure word has already reached Prince John of her attack on you. If he's feeling particularly irritated this could have been for nothing. We could lose her lands, her gold, even our heads." He turned a baleful glare on his Master at Arms. "You find her. You find her, and you bring her back." He growled again. "Women. I told you, Gisborne, they're the bane of existence. Lepers, the lot of them."

Gisborne's own dagger was in hand, reflecting the light off the bright blade as he twisted it idly in his hand. Suddenly it was buried halfway to the hilt in the tabletop. "I WILL find her. And she'll regret attacking me."

(Sherwood)

"No. Absolutely not." Robin was more than upset at the idea she'd proposed. "You won't be able to reason with him, you won't be able to sway him. He'll kill you for defying him. And if he doesn't, the Sheriff will."

"Gisborne won't kill me if he wants to keep the lands and dowry I bring to our marriage. He has to have an heir in order to take control of them. And that keeps the Sheriff at bay as well. He won't risk losing Gisborne's money." Tom took a deep breath. They hadn't so much as blinked an eye when she told them who she was, and why she had run. Had they known? She thought that Robin at least might have. She certainly hadn't fooled John for one moment. "It's the perfect way for you to do this. Everyone will be expected to attend the festivities when the marriage is announced. The rest of the castle will be loosely guarded as a result."

"They will need servants, entertainment," Djaq broke in smoothly. "It could work. We've done that before."

"It will work." Robin's voice was harsh. "But if we can't get to you in time, Tom, he'll kill you. Or at least hurt you badly. I can't let you do this."

"You don't have that choice." Tom faced him then, her green eyes glittering. "I mucked it up before. I didn't kill him. But he'll not lay another hand on me without getting bloodied again. And if you don't think that will sufficiently keep the guards occupied, I'm open to other suggestions." She held Robin's gaze, not backing down. "I can hold him off long enough for you to come get me. I... I trust you. I've heard enough, seen enough, of what you've done for the people to believe you won't allow him to harm me. So take what I'm offering you and see this done."

They stood silent for several long moments, neither willing to give an inch, until Robin finally nodded. Tom let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "I'll go now. The wedding feast was set to begin just after sunset; that should give me plenty of time to cause a bit of a disturbance." There was a wry smile on her lips, though her eyes were deep with sorrow. John put a hand on her arm, not holding, merely resting it lightly there, trying to give support.

"We'll be close behind. I won't let him hurt you, Tom, I promise." Robin gave a soft snort. "Tom. What is your real name, anyway? Can't keep calling you Tom, can we?"

She gave him a sad smile and turned toward Nottingham. "If we all live through this, I'll tell you."

John's hand on her arm tightened just a fraction and she looked up at him. He said nothing, simply raised his hand to her cheek, letting the knuckles graze lightly across the skin. Then he stepped away and let her go.

She moved down the road, out in the open, and their eyes didn't leave her. John took a deep breath, his hands tightening on his staff. "Are you mad?" he asked finally, anger pulsing from him. "She's no match for a knight! He'll beat her at the least for running away. God knows what he'll do to her for stabbing him! And you're just letting her walk into that? He'll kill her!"

"That's not going to happen, John, you need to trust me!" Robin snarled back. "I give you my word, we will protect her. My word, John."

John glared at him for a moment more before nodding. "Then let's go."


	4. Chapter 4

Tom let them nearly drag her before the Sheriff and her husband. The guards had addressed her as "Lady Gisborne" (albeit rather snidely) which meant the wedding had been carried out by proxy. Probably by Prince John himself, in order to cement this alliance. She had given it some thought, on the way back toward the castle, and finally she thought she understood why there had been such a fuss over the marriage, the alliance. It extended Gisborne's hold around Locksley to several other villages including Bonchurch and gave him control of the neighboring territory of Treeton. It was a very large piece of land that the Sheriff and Prince John would then have loyal to them. It was a shrewd move.

"Well, well, it seems your wife has either come to her senses or been scared silly out on her own," Vaizey drawled insultingly as he looked her up and down. "A little the worse for wear, isn't she? Why don't you see to her comfort, I'm sure she's had quite an ordeal." But there was dark humor behind the words. "And there's the little matter of her stabbing you that I think you might want to address, hm?" He flicked a hand dismissively.

Gisborne rose and moved to stand before her. She had to raise her face to see him clearly, and then dropped her eyes in a hurry at the fury in his. Oh, this was not good. The celebration wouldn't start for a couple of hours yet, and if he was taking her to their rooms... good thing she had a dagger hidden in her sleeve. He wasn't going to touch her, not again. "Come with me," he snapped, and yet he held out his arm for her. Keeping up appearances, she thought irreverently, and she declined it. But she did stay in step with him, thought it was a bit difficult. His legs were longer than hers.

Once in their rooms, he locked the door and she fought down a shiver of fear. "You are without a doubt the most infuriating woman I have ever met, and that is not a compliment," he snarled as he grabbed her to bring her close to him. "You're worse than Marian. At least all she did was lie to me. You tried to kill me!" He shook her so hard her teeth rattled and her fear deepened. Abruptly he set her back and continued to glare at her. "Take off your clothes."

"What? No!" He'd find the dagger. She couldn't let him find her only protection. She wasn't going to let him touch her.

"You're filthy. You can't bathe with your clothes on so take them off." He stepped forward and she stood her ground, suddenly angry.

"No. Not in front of you."

"Either you take them off, or I'll take them off you," he growled and she fought the shiver. One of his gloved hands moved suddenly, grabbing her hair and he drew her close again, painfully so. "You are my wife, Thomasina. You will do as I say, or you will be punished. Now take them off."

She managed to get her hand up and raked her nails across his face. He staggered back, releasing her, and she let the dagger drop into her hand. "You will not touch me again, not unless you want to bleed," she snarled. He merely smirked at her and advanced again, and she fell back a step.

"Keep fighting," he said conversationally as he forced her back, step by step, until she had her back to the wall. The dagger remained between them. "It amuses me." A sudden lunge and he had her wrist trapped in his big hand, fingers digging into the tendons there, numbing her hand and forcing her to drop the knife. He brought her in close again, his face mere inches from hers. "I would treat you well," he said softly.

"Until Vaizey demanded otherwise," she spat furiously. She tried to kick him and he stiffened with a growl. "Let go of me!"

"You leave me no choice." The only thing she was going to heed was a firm hand and he slapped her. Her hand went to her cheek, her eyes wide, all the fight gone from her in a rush. "Better," he sneered. "Now that I have your attention – you will bathe, you will dress in the gown that has been generously provided for you, and you will return to the hall. You will behave in a civil manner until such time as I decide it is time to retire, and then you will return here with me and you WILL perform your duties without question or you will be punished. Do you understand?"

A reprieve. He wasn't going to demand his rights that instant. She nodded, tears glittering unshed in her eyes. One of his leather-clad hands dropped to caress her hair. "Much better," he said softly as he pressed a kiss atop her head. She wanted to cringe away but the wall was at her back and she had nowhere to go. He stepped back, watching her closely, before leaving her standing alone by the wall and leaving the room. She heard the lock click into place and groaned. So much for that part of her plan; she couldn't very well lead him a merry chase around the castle and away from Robin if she was locked in. She'd have to improvise.

Her hand rubbed at the rising bruise on her cheek. She had no illusions. If she remained here, if Robin didn't come, she would die. Guy had already proven he wouldn't hesitate to beat her, and she knew that when she refused him, he would simply take what he wanted. He needed an heir, after all. But she couldn't get out. Unless... no. Robin was coming. She had to stick to the plan.

So. Deep breath. She'd do as ordered, for the time being.

The lock clicked open behind her and a soft voice came to her. It startled her and she whirled, one hand going to the now empty sheathe on her forearm. "Djaq! You scared me to death!" She moved forward quickly, trying to keep the injured side of her face away from the girl.

She didn't manage it. Djaq merely raised an eyebrow at it. "They are at the armory now. The Sheriff knows nothing, as yet. The guards are stupid and easily fooled. It won't be long."

"Go on, then. Keep them safe. I'll be all right until you can come get me." Tom shrugged out of her clothes and washed quickly, then got into the dress her husband – damn him – had provided. "I'll be in the hall with them, surely he'll do nothing too bad in front of witnesses." But she was shaking. It was a vain hope, and she knew it. These men were ruthless and they weren't afraid to cut out tongues in front of others in a show of force, beatings, hangings, no, being in public wouldn't stop those things. But she had placed her faith in Robin and she'd hold to it. And at least if Gisborne killed her she wouldn't have to let him touch her. He made her skin crawl.

Djaq touched her hand and went to the door, asking the guard to let her out, and Tom smiled slightly. It had been nothing more than kindness that had brought the Saracen girl to her, to try and reassure her. Then she drew herself up, stiffened her spine and straightened her shoulders, and went to the door. The guards let her out, but two of them fell in step with her, obviously there to make sure she went to the hall and nowhere else. She resisted the urge to growl at them.

She allowed them to take her to her husband, and she gave Gisborne a tight smile. "Does this suit, my lord?" she asked softly. She had to make him think she was totally cowed in order to keep his attention away from the armory – and Robin. So she played a dangerous game, not quite flirting with him, but still allowing him to think his attentions weren't quite so unwelcome. At least she didn't try to stab him when his hand came to rest on hers and she forced a small smile.

Had they succeeded? No alarm had been raised. Then Guy was bringing her to her feet and they were leaving the hall. He'd decided to dispense with the traditional maids to prepare her for her wedding night, and she shivered again. "I much prefer you this way," he said softly as they walked toward his rooms. His. Never hers. "Much more pleasant when I don't have to remind you of your place." He opened he door and ushered her in, one hand resting possessively in the small of her back. "There is still, however, the small matter of you attacking me to deal with."

His voice was pleasant but there was an undertone that caused her heart to race in fear. She couldn't look at him. "You must be punished for such a thing. The Sheriff would see you hang, but that wouldn't further our aims. So, I will think on an appropriate action." He was removing his leather as he spoke, mostly not even watching her. She couldn't go far if she ran; there were guards posted in the hall. Then he turned to her once more, one eyebrow raised, a mocking smile on his face. "You must bear me a son for me to completely control your lands, Thomasina, and I intend to be most thorough in bringing that about. You have a choice." He drew near, one hand caressing the cheek he'd bruised earlier, his voice low and seductive. "You can become my wife in fact, enjoy my touch, the pleasure I can bring you. Or," and he drew back, watching her, his face forbidding and threatening. "Or you can fight me and I will still have what I want. You are no match for me. I would rather this wasn't rape, it's not to my taste, but I WILL have what I need from you."

She stepped back, one hand going behind her in search of a weapon, any weapon. Her fingers closed about the fireplace poker and she gripped it firmly. "It will have to be rape, then, HUSBAND," she sneered. "I will never give myself up to you. I loathe you. I loathe everything you and Vaizey stand for. You destroy the very people you are supposed to protect. I will never let you have me, not willingly." She gripped the poker harder, ready to use it.

Sounds from without alerted them and he stiffened, turning to the window to listen. Cries of alarm were being raised. Robin and the others, then. They must have succeeded or there wouldn't be so much hue and cry going on. And they were coming for her. They had promised.

She struck while he was distracted but she hadn't the strength to render him unconscious. The blow from her makeshift weapon knocked him aside, cursing soundly, and she headed for the door. Surely the guards would be joining their brethren in search of the outlaws and she'd be able to escape.

He grabbed her around the waist and flung her back inside and she collided heavily with the bed frame, wringing a cry of pain from her. Then the battle was truly joined. She had found her poker once more and he feinted toward her, winning a clumsy blow on his forearm which enraged him further. He threw a light punch and she went down in a heap, screaming as he dropped on her and held her down. "I warned you," he snarled as he struggled to hold onto the squirming, screaming wildcat beneath him. "I WILL have what I need."

Pain and terror lent her scream extra volume as he gripped both her hands in one of his and used the other to tear her gown from neck to waist, baring her breasts to him and he nuzzled at her neck, ignoring her pleas for him to stop, to not hurt her.

There was a roar from the hall and the door flew inward, torn from its hinges by a powerful assault. Armed men and one woman stormed into the room, weapons raised. "Let her go!" Robin thundered as John simply grabbed Gisborne and threw him backward to land in a heap against the wall. Then he grabbed the shirt the knight had discarded and gave it to Tom, turning his eyes away until she was covered. He nodded simply then and passed her the short sword she'd worn when they met.

"More guards!" Much called from the doorway as he backed into the room. Robin went for the window, bow raised, already aiming. The arrow flew true, embedding itself into the woodwork of the gates. "Come on!" he ordered as his people began to grab at the rope attached to it. John tied it off tightly on one of the bedposts and Robin hooked his bow across it, sliding down easily. The others followed suit, using pieces of the bed linens when they had nothing else to shield their hands from the burn of the rope. Gisborne still hadn't stirred when Tom took hold of the piece of sheet, and she frowned when John urged her to hurry.

"Is he dead?" she asked softly. She wanted him dead, but it would make things worse. Gisborne was a known evil; anyone else the Sheriff could bring in might be, probably would be, worse.

"No." John put his hands on her to lift her to the sill and she stiffened. He forced his hands away and let her clamber up on her own. He'd not hurt her, but right now, she was afraid of everything. The thought infuriated him.

She simply nodded and slid down, where Djaq steadied her onto her feet. John followed a heartbeat behind and then they were running again, headed for the portcullis and beyond, headed for safety.

Gisborne sat up quick and then put both hands to his aching head, then lurched to his feet and leaned out the window. There they were, in the distance, retreating from him, Hood and his ragged band of outlaws and that insufferable little wench he was married to. She had thrown in with them of all people.

He grabbed a bow from one of the guards that had flooded the room and took aim, but they were well beyond range and he snarled for the guards to pursue; those that weren't already.

He was still muttering curses and drawing on his armor when the Sheriff made an appearance. "You lost her again?" he raged as he stormed into the room while Guy finished armoring up.

"They won't get far." Gisborne's voice was heavy with rage. "There are guards on all the roads and approaches. There's a picket line strung across from the western border to the east. They'll never get through it." He stalked out of the room, leaving Vaizey storming after him. "They should be in chains by now."

Vaizey blinked slightly as they got their horses and headed north, across country, to meet with the pickets. "That was actually a sound plan, Gisborne. You're getting better at this." He snorted. "It's about time, too. I want an end to that bloody outlaw once and for all!"

At the picket line, however, they discovered a serious flaw in Gisborne's plan. "You let them through?" he raged as he lashed out at the sergeant. The man was flung to the dirt, his nose bleeding and the right side of his face already swelling. "You let Robin Hood just walk through a picket line designed to stop him? ARE YOU MAD or just STUPID?"

"Lady Gisborne was with him, my lord, she ordered us to give way, I was only following orders, sir!" But he knew he was doomed from the look on Vaizey's face.

"Hang him. Maybe that will teach him not to THINK!" he roared. "You, the rest of you. That – woman – has no authority here. None. She's as much an outlaw as Hood, do you hear me? Now straighten these lines. NO ONE gets through without word from myself or Gisborne. NO ONE."

He reined around, headed back for the castle, and Gisborne followed. His own heart was full of rage and his mind of things he would do to that little menace when he got his hands on her.


	5. Chapter 5

(Sherwood)

They had the money. Not all of it, but enough to make a serious dent in Vaizey's plans. And they would distribute it the following day. Right now, they were safe in their camp, enjoying the feeling of a raid gone right. Tom sat a little apart from the rest, uncomfortable and thinking dark thoughts.

She was well and truly lost, now. Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. She couldn't stay with them, it would put them in far too much danger. The night's raid, the stolen taxes, and her escape would have put both her husband and the Sheriff into fits of rage.

She snorted at her whimsy. They were already in as much danger as possible. Gisborne and Vaizey had sworn to find them and hang them. Tom would be no more danger to them than themselves.

But what could she do to help them? She couldn't play this trick again. And while she could use her sword passably well, she wasn't good enough with it to truly fight. She could defend herself but that was about it. And she refused to be a burden on them. They fought to make things better, and she wanted to be part of that.

She couldn't bloody well torment her husband again. She never wanted to see him. And she wasn't going to be responsible for her actions if she did. He had tried to – her mind cringed away from the thought. He'd have succeeded if John hadn't broken down the door.

Robin came to sit next to her, near enough to touch but not near enough to be threatening. She was skittish as a deer and he didn't want to make it worse. He did hand her a cup and a cloth, however. "Djaq says this'll help the swelling, maybe take some of the pain from it," he said softly as he offered it to her. He paused a moment. "Thank you."

She turned to look at him, confused. "Why thank me?" she asked quietly. "If not for me, you'd have been long gone without a trace and no one the wiser that you'd taken the money." She gave him a rueful smile.

He gave a soft bark of laughter. "If not for you, we'd never have gotten in in the first place," he stated emphatically. "You put yourself in great danger on our behalf. Why?" It wasn't an idle question. Gisborne could easily have killed her.

"Because you make a difference." Tom's words were soft, also, but she could feel the others listening as well. "Because you treated me with kindness instead of suspicion when you could very well have slit my throat and been done with it." She shrugged. "I've seen the smiles on the faces of the poor when you've been through with donations. Food, money; it makes no difference what is given to them. What matters is that it allows them to live without fear for a few days."

Robin offered her a true smile, then. "You're welcome to stay. You're safe with us. We'll let no harm come to you."

"I know." Her gaze strayed to John and she colored slightly. "Bit of a bear, that one," she said quietly. "Did he really break down that door without a ram?" And yet he'd been so gentle with her, so kind. So willing to protect her, to protect her charade if that was what she wanted. It made her smile.

Robin gave a sly smile of his own. "Yes," he said with a small laugh. A little teasing might not be amiss here. He was comfortable with her in ways he hadn't expected possible, not after Marian. And it would establish whether or not he needed to be circumspect. She was a pretty girl, after all. Not that he was really interested, but a little harmless flirtation never hurt anyone. Abruptly he sobered. "He heard you scream."

"If he hadn't..." Her voice trailed off and she dropped her eyes to the floor. No. She wasn't going to think about that. About how helpless she'd felt, unable to get free, unable to fight back. No.

"It didn't happen." Robin's voice was soft. He'd tracked the emotions in her face, the fear and the despair. "And we'll protect you. You're safe." It was part of her fear, he knew, that she couldn't protect herself. He'd seen it before, one person overpowered by another, unable to fight back, unable to flee. He saw it every day, every time the Sheriff and Gisborne handed out "punishments" and taxes. It put a whole new meaning on helpless and it was a feeling that could destroy her if it was allowed to grow. "You're fairly good with your dagger if you sliced Gisborne with it. He's hard to fight."

The words were simple, but the thought behind them wasn't. First, that she was well protected, and second that she wasn't completely helpless. And third, that while he knew he'd protect her as well as he was able, he was more than certain that John would die for her. It was a sudden surety that he couldn't explain but he could nearly see the connection between them. It might be no more than simple friendship; but it was subtle and it was deep, even in the short time they'd been acquainted.

"I'm not good enough. He's still alive." Her fury crackled from her words and he blinked. From one extreme to the next, he thought quickly. "No, that's not right. We can't kill him. Whoever Vaizey brought in to replace him would be worse." She shook her head. "I'm not good company, sorry." She took a deep breath. "Will you teach me? My sword. A bow. Anything else you can find. And I'll have to find another dagger, HE has mine."

"Of course we'll teach you. But that, I think, is for tomorrow. It's getting late." He rose and noted that John had been watching them curiously. "John, first watch tonight, then Much, then me. And tomorrow we'll start teaching our new friend how to use her weapons."

He rose and went to his spot to sleep, leaving her to think. John rose in turn, going to the opening they watched out of. Tom went to sit next to him, silent, but needing the company. She no longer wanted to be alone with her thoughts. They were too dark and frightening. "Mind if I join you?" she asked quietly.

He moved slightly, giving her some extra room. "You okay?" Stupid question. She wasn't, really, and he understood it.

"Not really," she answered honestly. "But I will be." She shook her head, pale hair gleaming in the torchlight. She put a gentle hand on his arm. "Thank you," she murmured.

He gave her a small smile. "Couldn't let him hurt you," he said quietly as he peered out the opening. They were safe enough, but they still set a watch. For all his apparent inability to track them, Gisborne wasn't stupid. Sooner or later, he'd find them. He wanted to put his arm around her but he didn't want to frighten her and this soon after what had happened, it probably would. "You should sleep, Tom," he said softly.

"I'm afraid to," she replied in a small voice. "I've had nightmares since word came of Father's death. Now... I'm afraid to close my eyes." Her voice shook and she tried to take hold of her wayward emotions. She wanted to belong here and if she was afraid all the time, she wouldn't be able to. Would she? They seemed more than kind. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

She wanted him to hold her and tell her everything would be all right, and that was odd because they'd only just met. But he already meant safety to her, and she didn't question that.

He shifted and raised his arm invitingly. "If you want," he said softly. "It might help."

She scooted over the few remaining inches and let him place his arm around her shoulders comfortingly. "Thank you," she murmured as she let her head fall against his shoulder. "For everything."

He tightened his grip a fraction for a second and then kept silent. If she could sleep, it would be best, and soon enough, he felt her grow a trifle heavier against him. Her eyes were closed and he let a small smile out, watching her for a moment before turning his attention back to the opening.

When Much woke to take the watch (and he didn't have any idea how the man always managed to wake on time, he just did) John gathered her up carefully and placed her on a pallet near the fire, composing himself nearby. If she woke afraid, he'd be there to reassure her.

Robin found them like that when he rose and gave a smirk. John rested his back against the wall and she lay on his pallet – and their hands were linked. Definitely something there. But both rested quietly and that was all that mattered. If they took comfort from each other, it was just an added benefit.

(Nottingham Castle)

Prince John descended from his carriage at Nottingham Castle and waited impatiently for both Vaizey and Gisborne to kiss his ring. "I am not pleased by what I am hearing," he said simply as he minced past them into the castle proper. "I sent you a wife, Gisborne, in hopes that you would become my staunch ally. And yet you have not consummated your marriage, indeed, you have allowed her to flout your authority and actually attack you!" His voice became soft and deadly. "You do not love me, or you would have done this thing already."

"Forgive me, Sire," Gisborne said softly as Prince John settled himself into the Sheriff's throne. "You warned me, and I chose to think she couldn't be so headstrong as you described." His jaw twitched. "She's much, much worse than you mentioned."

"Yes, well, I could hardly tell you the truth, could I? You'd have run for the hills. Very well, I accept your apology, Gisborne, but you WILL fix this and immediately. Now, on to bigger things. She has fallen in with Robin Hood, hm? Whatever shall we do about that?"

"I'd a thought, Your Highness," Vaizey broke in smoothly. "We still have the Black Knights, although admittedly that's not worth much in an attempt to kill the King. Why don't we use them?"

Prince John leaned forward slightly, watching them. "I had heard you disbanded them. You say some are still loyal to our cause? I'm intrigued. Explain."

"If Hood sees them, he'll stop at nothing to find out what they're up to. So we send them on an errand, say to Portsmouth, where Hood isn't so well known and has fewer allies. He'll follow." He smirked. "He's too loyal to do otherwise. If he thinks there's a threat to Richard, or if he thinks he can stop our cruelty, he'll go without a thought. And he'll take that ragged little band of miscreants with him, so we can net the whole lot."

"Good, good!" Prince John clapped his hands together in glee. "But he's sure to leave someone behind to look after things here. Probably your errant wife, Gisborne, since she's not really a dab hand at combat. It surprised me greatly that she was able to do you any damage, to be honest. Well, you'll be at Locksley Manor to intercept her. Yes, this is perfect! Oh, you DO love me!"

Gisborne exchanged a look with the Sheriff. Yes, this might well work. And it would keep them in the Prince's good graces for a while longer.


	6. Chapter 6

Tom was encouraged by watching them with the poor. They were all kind to a fault, even going so far as to ruffle the children's hair occasionally and to offer smiles and encouragement to the parents that all would be well. The food they'd obtained with the coins they'd stolen was well received.

She'd been in the villages of her father's estate, of course, but she'd never been so close to the villagers. Her lady mother, however, had always sent the leftovers from their meals to the poor, in order to see they ate at least a little each day. And she had done the same until Prince John arrived with word of her impending marriage.

It only reinforced her decision to remain with them. She could do some good here. These people were starving, taxed into such utter poverty that some of them had even died in the street without a place to live. Food, medicines, such things were out of their reach due to the unfair demands placed upon them and she was outraged on their behalf. And as the gang walked among the poor in Locksley village, as the villagers praised Robin and his followers and gave thanks for them, she told herself again that they were doing a good thing.

A plan began to form in her mind and she turned it over, examining it carefully. It would be a poor repayment of their kindness to her if it went wrong and she needed to be certain of it before she even mentioned it.

As they returned to the forest and their camp, she realized that no matter where she had roamed over the course of the day, John had been nearby. He hadn't crowded her; but he had been near to hand the entire day, watching over her, making her feel safe. And every time she had caught his eye, he had given her a small, shy smile.

She liked the big man. He was a gentle giant, certainly. Frightening in battle, but the rest of the time? Quiet, unassuming, and quite kind. He was wonderful with the children and it made her wonder why he had none of his own. Had no woman ever caught his eye? If not, then the more fool they. He was a good man. Any woman should be proud to have him. He was more noble than most of the landed lords she knew.

The sound of harness jingling in the stillness of the early evening alerted them and they dove for cover, concealing themselves quickly and watching as a troop of armed men swept by. The troop bore no device and was clad all in black, and Robin scowled. Much opened his mouth and Robin kicked him to keep him quiet. He didn't need his friend to tell him these were black knights, those men who had signed Prince John's Pact in treason against the King.

They watched as the knights swept past, keeping still and silent in the gathering dusk so as not to be discovered. And when they were clear, Robin turned to Will. "They're headed toward Nettlestone. Get there before them if you can, warn the villagers. Tell them not to resist. Anything taken or destroyed we'll replace. We'll follow." He turned to John. "Take Tom, go to the camp. Wait there. We'll be back by nightfall."

"No!" Tom snarled back. "You need John. I'll go to the camp. There's little chance it'll be discovered, right? I'll be fine." She knew why Robin had decided to leave her behind; she hadn't had any lessons yet and was still unsure of her skills. She'd be a liability if they had to fight. "Go on."

Robin held her gaze for a long moment before nodding. "Stay inside. You'll be safe. We'll be back by nightfall. You know the signal?"

She'd heard them use it that morning and nodded. "Anything else, I'll keep silent and still and no one will find the camp." And if she was found, she'd take some of them with her. What she lacked in knowledge, she made up for in determination.

John took Robin's arm. "You can't let her go alone," he growled. "If they find her -"

"They won't." Tom put a gentle hand on John's arm. "You don't have time for this. Look, I hid from Gisborne's men long enough to find you lot, right? I can hide from them now. Go. I'll be okay." He still looked rebellious and she took his face in her hands, holding him lightly and pressing a light kiss on his cheek. "Go. Then come back and find me. I'll be okay."

The others were already moving away as he took her in his arms, holding her tightly. He kissed her hair. "Be safe," he said softly. Then he turned and went with the others, following closely.

None of them spoke for some time. Nettlestone was in view when Robin drew them to a halt. "We need to be very, very clever," he explained patiently. "There has to be a reason they're here. Spread out, listen carefully. The villagers will help if they know we're here. Meet at the usual place in two hours." He gave a nod and each took a different path into the town, keeping a careful eye open for traps and ambushes.

There were none. They met back behind the mill at the designated time, each with a small piece of information to share. It seemed this was only a rest stop; the Black Knights would move from there to the coast. But it wasn't a strike at the King; they merely meant to put down a small rebellion in Portsmouth.

"Our fight is spreading," Robin said easily as he considered. "But if they've no one to organize them, this will end badly."

"What can we do?" Djaq asked quietly. "We cannot get there before them, even if we travel all night."

Much drew a breath and the others turned to regard him, expecting some sort of ramble as usual, but all he said was "Horses."

Robin gave him a shrewd glance, but said nothing for a long moment. Much finally got the courage to continue. "It's simple, really. If they don't have horses, and we do, then we can get there first."

Robin gave him a wide smile. "Much, that's brilliant," he said quickly. "They're soldiers, they won't trust their mounts to the livery. They'll have picket lines just outside the village. If we can frighten the horses, they'll bolt and they'll be on foot." He took a deep breath. "We'll take four for us, run the rest off. And we can be in Portsmouth by midday tomorrow, which should give us several hours head start on the knights."

"Four? There are five of us. Even I can count that high." Much was confused only for a moment. "Who's not going, then?"

"You. Go to the camp. Tell Tom what's happened and where we are, then go to Locksley. Gisborne isn't with this bunch. Make sure he isn't up to something even worse there. If he is, do what you can. We'll be back as soon as we're finished in Portsmouth."

Much allowed himself one moment of self satisfaction before nodding. It was an important job Robin had given him and he was grateful once more for his friend's trust. They had come a long way from master and servant. "Right. I'm on my way then." He gripped Robin's forearm as an equal and departed, melting into the crowd and then was lost to sight.

"Time to get to work," Robin said with a smirk.


	7. Chapter 7

Much gave the signal but got no answer. He tried again, unwilling to show himself until she had responded to him. Something might have gone wrong and then where would he be? Alone in the forest with certain death to be found if Gisborne was lurking about. Where was Tom?

A knife flashed past his face to embed itself into the tree next to him. It hadn't missed him by more than a hair and his heart nearly stopped before he realized it hadn't been meant to kill. It was only a warning. But hadn't she recognized him? It was dark, he reasoned, maybe she hadn't. "Tom?" he called softly.

She stepped out from behind another tree and he could see her shoulders slump slightly as she realized who he was. "You scared me to death, Much!" she growled as she got closer and then she held out her hand to him. "Where are the others?" Her pulse was suddenly pounding and her mouth was dry.

"On the way to Portsmouth." Quickly he detailed what had happened. "The Black Knights were supposed to be disbanded. That they've been reformed is bad, very bad." He reined in his usual babble. "YOU were supposed to be safe inside the camp."

"I got scared. There were soldiers wandering about out here, obviously looking for Robin. They almost found the way in." She shrugged. "So I led them away. Right now they're looking for me miles from here." She looked tired and worn and he suddenly had a new respect for her. She had protected them as they had sworn to protect her.

"Come on." They went inside where Much gathered a few things, a small bag of coins and some bread. "We're going to Locksley. Gisborne wasn't with the others, and that means he's up to something here."

She snarled silently. He watched the expression on her face, watched as her fury grew to frightening proportions. Suddenly he wasn't at all sure it was wise to take her along, but he had no choice. He couldn't do this alone and he was certain it was what Robin had intended. After all, he was supposed to talk to her and then go to Locksley. That meant he was to take her along to help him.

She visibly controlled her anger and put a hand on her short sword. "Let's go, then."

(Two days later)

Portsmouth was a disaster. Robin and the others had managed to frighten off the horses and beat the knights to their destination, but then it had gone very, very wrong.

It had been a trap, pure and simple.

There had been no rebellion to squash; the people there were despondent, incapable of raising enough hope to even think about fighting back, much less actually do it. They had tried to stir the poor, had done what they could, and then the troops closed in.

Royal troops. Those wearing the colors of Prince John himself.

It had been a mad dash to get out of there before they were taken and none of them escaped unscathed. Cuts, bruises, small prices to pay for their freedom, but still it galled them that they had been so thoroughly played.

Robin was in a foul, foul mood when they reached the camp and it wasn't eased any when he realized that both Much and Tom were absent. They hadn't returned from Locksley, though it had been more than two days and a half since they'd parted ways. That in itself was bad. That his friends might be in Gisborne's hands was worse. He knew, without any doubt, that Gisborne would stop at NOTHING to get what he wanted, whether it was Robin's head on a pike or Tom in his bed. Ruthless and heartless weren't strong enough words to describe the knight.

Gisborne had killed Marian with his own hands when she stood in his way. He had loved her, and he'd still killed her. So what chance did Much and Tom have when he bore no trace of tender emotion for either of them? His hatred would make him even more dangerous.

They would have to sneak into the village and try to overhear what had happened. With Gisborne in attendance there, they couldn't bloody well walk right up the road into town; it would have to be stealthy and cautious.

They were halfway to their destination when Robin held up a hand and they once more concealed themselves in the underbrush. But what they heard wasn't as much cause for alarm as it was cause for hope.

Two sets of feet, running. Only two. No pursuit, nothing more than two people, running hard. Then voices came to them and they relaxed, Robin giving a smirk as he recognized Much's incessant complaining. "I don't know what you're whinging about," Much was gasping as they neared. "It wasn't you he was aiming that crossbow at! I could have been killed!"

"Yes, Much, of course you could have." Tom's voice was full of good humor though she was panting with the effort. "Oh, come on, they're not following any more. Listen. No sound. So slow down already!"

They both stopped and bent over, heaving for breath, but it didn't stop Much from going on. "It could have been worse, I suppose," he said finally as he turned his head to look at her. He wore a small smile. "You could have been caught."

"I almost was. Good thing I had something to throw." She put a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you."

"Well, it seems you two had quite an adventure while we were gone!" Robin said brightly as he stepped out onto the road, the others following. "Come on back to camp, then, and tell us all about it." That something bad was in play was a given; Much had a spreading black bruise on his temple, a nasty cut in the center of it, and Tom's shirt was torn at the shoulder. No, not torn. Cut. Sliced cleanly and there was a nice wound beneath it, though nothing life threatening. He threw his arm around his lifelong friend and withdrew it quickly when Much winced. "And Djaq can look the two of you over while she takes care of us." He indicated a few of his own bruises with a rueful smile.

They made it back, were safe, and Djaq had set to work doctoring them up before Tom realized John was hurt. She immediately went to him, light, gentle fingers barely touching the gouge in his arm while Djaq tended to Robin. "It looks painful," she said softly. She swiveled and got a clean cloth and some of the water Djaq had warmed. "I can at least clean it while you wait. What happened?"

"Trap," he said simply. "Prince John. He's smarter than the Sheriff and Gisborne combined." But her hands were gentle on his skin and he gave her an apologetic smile.

"Which is not a good thing," Robin piped up from where Djaq was stitching a stab wound. He gritted his teeth when she tied it off, remembering much gentler hands doing the same for him and forced himself out of memory.

Tom nodded. She cleaned the puncture carefully, using the antiseptic herbs Djaq handed her, and bound it up for him. Then the reality of what had happened set in and she forced down a shiver. She and Much could have been killed. They ALL could have been killed. And for all their friendly banter to the contrary, it had been a much, much closer call than she really wanted to think about.

John's fingers on her cheek brought her out of her reverie and she tipped her eyes up to his, searching. She saw nothing but kindness and concern and relaxed slightly. "Let me see," he rumbled quietly as he touched the cut in her shirt.

"Give me a minute," she murmured and went behind a screen, then came back in a sleeveless tunic. The cut was long, but not deep. It wouldn't need stitching, but an inch or two higher and it might have sliced her neck instead. John fought down a shudder at the thought and instead forced his hands to remain steady as he cleaned it and regarded it carefully. It wouldn't even need a bandage.

"They tricked us into fighting on their territory, on their terms," Robin was explaining as Djaq finished with him and turned to Much. He wasn't badly hurt but he'd have a headache for a while, it seemed. Someone had bounced a rather solid object off his head in an attempt to knock him out of the fight. It hadn't worked, not this time. Then his tunic came off and Tom hung her head in shame as Robin hissed in fury.

Much had been beaten, and badly. Welts from the whip crisscrossed his back, from the waist up, and many of them were broken open and bleeding. Tom couldn't look at it. She hadn't stopped it. She'd wanted to; but if she had stepped forward, Gisborne would have found her and that she couldn't face. She'd thought she could go there and confront him, face him on her terms, possibly impress on him that she was no man's possession and certainly not his. Even if she'd had to do it at the point of a sword. But when she'd seen him, she'd frozen in in sheer terror and been unable to help when Much was dragged from his own hiding place into the center of the village and quickly bound up.

It had only been when Gisborne pointed a crossbow at her friend, intending to end his life as Robin hadn't come to his rescue, that she had been able to act. The first large stone that came to hand was pitched across the intervening space, smashing the weapon away from Much and rendering Gisborne's hand unusable for a moment. He'd been roaring rage and demanding that his men find the thrower and she'd crept around to the other side of the square, only showing herself when Guy reached for the weapon and by then, she'd mostly had Much ready to run.

If Guy had realized it was her, he'd have spared no effort to track them, she thought angrily. But she couldn't have let her friend die, not for anything. And it had only been blind luck that they got moving, fast, and the bolt meant for him had struck her a glancing blow on the shoulder instead.

Much was babbling on again, telling them the story, and she kept silent. She was bitterly ashamed of her fear, her inability to act. It could have cost Much his life. She should have stayed behind, but her desire to see Gisborne grovel at her feet had been too strong to resist. And yet the very sight of him had rendered her immobile, terrified and desperate to get away. But wait... Much wasn't blaming her. He was telling them that if not for her, he'd be dead.

She shook her head. "It's my fault you got caught in the first place," she said emphatically. "If I'd been where you told me, you wouldn't have had to go looking and they wouldn't have seen you. I froze and it nearly got you killed. Maybe I'm not meant for this."

"It doesn't matter," Robin said firmly as he moved to the opening they watched from. "You were afraid and you still acted. You saved his life." He turned back to face them, obviously choosing his words carefully. "It takes courage to stand your ground when all you want to do is break and run. It takes courage to put a friend's life before your own. And don't tell me you didn't. Much is alive because you DID."

"These will scar," Djaq said quietly into the ensuing silence. "You will need them salved morning and night for a few days until they completely close over." She handed him a cup. "Willow bark tea for the pain. You can have more later."

John drew Tom back against him, holding her lightly as she fumed in a lightning switch of mood. Robin's words weren't wasted on her. She realized they were true, but she also knew how close it had been. And she couldn't forgive herself for that inaction. Robin was speaking again though so she'd listen – and it felt good being in John's arms, her back pressed against his chest. She felt safe, but it was more than that. Ruthlessly she drew her attention back to Robin's words.

"We have to help these people," he was saying slowly as he paced. "It isn't just Nottingham any more. It isn't even just England. The Irish and the Scots are in the same position. And Prince John controls it all." He wanted to punch something. "King Richard isn't returning any time soon. He can't. It's on us, and people like us."

Will nodded silently and Djaq watched them, her expression hooded. "There aren't many like us," Much began evenly. "And those in Locksley are being beaten down more by the day. Gisborne's punishments have begun to rival the Sheriff's in cruelty. People are hung for the slightest "crimes," including being unable to work. If you're ill, you'd best be able to rise and go about your business or you're dead. Women who give birth are unable to care for their babes for having to work in the fields or the manor. Anyone who says a word about the unfairness of it all has their tongue removed." He shifted painfully. "Floggings are commonplace, as are the stocks and the forges." He watched Djaq's expression of horror. "Yes. Many are branded as lazy or cowards when they can't work, if they're not killed outright. And many of the villagers wear Gisborne's device somewhere on their skin. They're not given a choice. He treats them as property, not people."

Tom shuddered. She was bound to Gisborne, no matter that she wasn't with him and didn't support him. She was bound to him by the laws of England and the laws of the Church, and she wasn't sure at the moment that she cared about either. No, she was sure she didn't. She wouldn't go back. She wouldn't let him kill her, and she wouldn't let him touch her. It just wasn't going to happen.

"I had an idea," she said slowly as they began to settle down again. "It will take a lot more planning than I can manage on my own, but I think it'll work." She knew she had their attention by the way silence fell in the camp. She didn't move from John's loose embrace, using it instead to steady her nerves. This would be difficult to sell to them because of how they felt about the nobles, but she had to try. "I've friends among the noblewomen still. Friends who'll help me if I ask, who'll help US." She caught Robin's eye and held it. "My father's estates at Sibley don't yet belong to Sir Guy. They belong to me. And I can use that influence to get those friends to drop supplies and perhaps even coin to those in need."

"And how long will that last?" Much demanded. "If he's your husband, doesn't that automatically mean he can manage your estates without your assistance? Didn't he gain everything when you were married?"

She chewed her lower lip for a moment. This wasn't going to be pleasant for anyone. "He has to have an heir before things pass completely to him, remember? However, there is a clause he could use. After a year, if I haven't given him a son, he can have me declared barren, and the marriage is dissolved leaving him with everything. Or if I die."

"So why didn't he kill you outright?" Robin mused and she shivered.

John's arms tightened fractionally around her and she nestled a bit closer still. "Because he'd much rather have an heir. Because that's what Prince John expects. And because he wants to make me suffer for stabbing him in the first place." She felt John's rumble of protest and saw the others close in, angry on her behalf.

"Then we have a year to use your plan," Robin said quietly. "Where do you want to start?" He wasn't certain of this for a moment. Their last foray out of their usual haunts had been disastrous, as witness all the wounds Djaq had tended that night. And Much, Much was in no condition for them to do anything for a few days.

"Lisette of Fontaine will be in Nottingham next week, with her husband. He's to pledge his support to the Sheriff then. If I can get her alone, we can make our case to her. She'll help. She hates Vaizey, and she doesn't really care for her husband. She'd do it for the excitement alone." Tom shook her head with a wry smile. "She's a bit of a rebel and her husband tolerates it. Mostly. She could be a big help to us, spread the word. I just have to be able to get to her to give her the details."

"Next week." Robin's jaw tightened.

"It will give us time to heal first," Djaq said suddenly. "We can't fight in this condition and if we go to Nottingham, we will have to fight. Things are worse there now, too." Her voice was soft. Will put his arm around her reassuringly and she leaned back into it.

"These people can't wait a week!" Robin exploded. "If what Much says is true, a week could mean the deaths of all of them. We have to do something NOW."

"What can we do, then?" John growled back. "You can barely lift your sword, and Much can't possibly do any fighting. No. We can't go now. We have to wait."

Robin made a strangled noise of rage and glared at the ceiling. It didn't matter that they were right. He needed to do something, and he needed to do it now. It tore at him that he couldn't help those in danger.

"Maybe there's something we can do," Djaq said quietly into the strained silence. "There are plants that can cause illness without really damaging the body. If we could get Gisborne and his men to eat them, they would be too sick to hurt others."

"And how do we get them to eat it?" Much demanded. He was getting cranky. His back was on fire despite the salve, and his head was throbbing like a drum. "We can't bloody well just deliver it to the manor and tell them to enjoy!"

Robin smirked. "Much, that's exactly what we're going to do."


	8. Chapter 8

(Sherwood)

Will returned to the camp after his scouting run two days later with a smile. "Worked like a dream," he said simply. "They're all down with it. Some of them are muttering about poison, but they're all sick. And the villagers are fine." He shrugged. "Recovering nicely. They're glad of the rest."

Robin grinned. "There's that out of the way then. We bought them some time to regroup, and Tom can talk to her friend when she gets to Nottingham. That'll help too." He watched quietly as Tom worked with John to learn how to wield a staff. They'd all begun teaching her, although he was going to have to find ways to keep John away while anyone else was with her. The big man was overly protective and if she was going to learn quickly enough to stay alive, they had to be brutal. John objected to that, sometimes with more than words.

On the other hand - "Get your mind on what you're doing!" he heard John growl and Tom gave him an answering snarl, feinting one way and then connecting with a solid "thunk" on the man's forearm. John countered the blow and swept her legs with his weapon, sending her crashing backward to the ground with a curse. She lay still for a moment and Robin leaned forward, then smirked a bit as he realized what she was up to. It hadn't been a hard enough fall to knock her senseless.

John moved forward and was about to kneel down to check on her when her leg shot out and her foot connected solidly with his knee. He fell back with a strangled curse and she was on him in a blink, dagger pressed to his throat and a gleam in her eye. "Gotcha," she said softly.

He grinned at her and then without warning, knocked the little dagger aside and flipped them so he was holding her down. It was all in fun, playful, but suddenly she went rigid, her eyes wide, her breathing becoming rapid and she bucked underneath him, struggling to reach her knife and screaming denials.

Tom's mind deserted her. All she could see above her was Gisborne's sneering face, feel his hands on her, holding her down, trying to take what he thought was his. She didn't see John at all; she was back in the castle at the knight's mercy. A wail of terror left her and then she was desperately fighting back, striking whatever part of him she could reach in hopes of winning free.

John instantly turned her loose and rolled away, letting her reach her dagger and she scrambled backward, brandishing it in his general direction, breathing hard and backing against the nearest tree. He wanted to help her, but he wasn't sure how. She seemed utterly terrified of HIM and if he got near her, there was no telling what she'd do.

He got to his knees but rose no further and held a hand out to her. "Tom. Tom, it's me. It's John." He didn't know if he could reach her but he had to try. The sheer panic in her eyes tore at him. "It's John. I won't hurt you. You know I won't hurt you. Calm down, now. You're safe here, okay? You're safe." Understanding broke over him and he cursed long and loud in his mind. "He isn't here, Tom. He's not here. You're safe."

Robin started toward them but Djaq took his arm. "No. Let him do it."

"She's terrified of him!" Robin made to shake her off but Djaq held firm.

"It isn't him she fears," she explained quietly. "You know what Gisborne tried to do to her. That is what she fears, not our John. And the way she watches him, the way he looks at her, it will make him able to reach her better than any of the rest of us."

Robin sat back, watching, though nothing had changed. Tom still kept her back to the tree and her dagger in front of her, and John had simply sat down a few feet away, talking to her. He wasn't pressing her, wasn't forcing her to listen, he was just talking. And Robin had to admit, it seemed to be working. Tom was slowly, very slowly settling down, relaxing enough to let the little knife dangle from her fingers rather than brandishing it defensively.

"Where did he learn that?" Robin asked quietly, not really expecting an answer. Djaq shrugged, but Much spoke then from where he'd come to rest beside them, unnoticed.

"From me. From how I treated you when we first got home, when we first came to the forest. You were – the nightmares were horrid, simply horrid, and I talked you through them every night for weeks. You never even knew. You never remembered the dreams, not once you were awake. Sometimes it would take hours to calm you." Much kept watching John with Tom. "It's really the same thing, isn't it? You thought you were going to die when that sword hit you. You felt helpless and afraid. So does she."

Robin fought down a shiver at the remembered emotions. Yes, homecoming had been so wonderful; being back on English soil, seeing his home, it had all been overwhelming but the terror of his injuries, of knowing he had nearly died, of his lingering weakness from the fever and infection... those had all conspired to take a heavy toll on him. And Much, his loyal friend, had been there. Much had brought him back from the abyss with just the sort of behavior John was giving Tom now.

And the gratitude he felt for that friendship, for that devotion, was also overwhelming. And yet, he said nothing. Much understood far more than he would say about it, and he understood Robin's feelings on it. That was enough.

"Then what she needs most is time." Robin was still watching them. There wasn't much to do in the forest, unless they were either ambushing travelers or training or sleeping. Any distraction was welcome. But something about this one was different.

As gently as Much had held him when necessary, there had been none of the tenderness, the love that John showed Tom. And he thought that as much as John was good for Tom, she would be good for him. John had mourned his wife and son for a very long time. He'd wanted to die, and to see him like this gave Robin new hope that he wouldn't slide back into that dark nothingness that beckoned him each day that he no longer had Alice and their boy. They hadn't died; but they might as well have. When John had been forced into the forest to live as an outlaw, everyone had considered him dead, including Alice. And she had made a new life with another man.

And John had let her go. He had sent her away, never to see her again. Never to see his son again. And that act had nearly destroyed him.

Now, he was completely focused on Tom. He'd finally managed to move close enough to touch and gently, carefully took the knife from her. She looked up at him then, her eyes wide, and sudden recognition flared in those jade green orbs. She half raised her hand to him and then dropped it as a tear rolled down her cheek. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Djaq grabbed Robin and Much both by the collars and pulled. "I think we should leave," she said simply as John reached out to wipe the tear from Tom's cheek. They'd already stayed long past what was really proper.

John and Tom never noticed their presence, much less their departure. He pulled her in close, not using a lot of power. He didn't want to frighten her any more than she already had been. And he held her gently, easily, against his chest as she cried, letting her purge some of the fear and anger. He kissed her hair, and she never noticed when his own tears joined hers.

Morning dawned gloomy and overcast, which suited Gisborne's mood. He was coming to realize that things weren't always as they seemed, and the thought that he'd been used was foremost in his mind.

Thomasina was a very sore spot in his thoughts. He had taken Prince John's words at face value and treated her badly, and it had soured what might have been a decent relationship. If he had treated her kindly from the outset, things might be different.

He had been as much an unwilling pawn in this as she. Was it truly right for him to treat her so callously, so cruelly? Thoughts of her attack on him welled up and he growled. He'd really done nothing to provoke it. He'd only insisted – rather forcefully, he had to admit – that she be more circumspect with her words. Antagonizing Vaizey would he hazardous to her health.

Too forcefully. She'd felt threatened and had defended herself. In retrospect, he understood it, and he regretted it. Soft words, kind actions, they could have avoided this whole bloody mess.

That farce of a wedding feast. He should have suspected something amiss when she just showed up out of the blue, pale hair shorn short and dressed as a lad. Obviously she'd meant to hide from him, and yet something had drawn her back. He should have known.

After his callous and cavalier treatment of her, nothing short of desperation would have brought her back to him. Or being part of Hood's plan to steal the taxes that had been collected. And that was another thorn in his side.

She was a lady born and raised. How could she sympathize with them? They went against everything the nobility was.

She was pretty, in an understated sort of way, he mused suddenly. Her hair, pale silvery gold, an unusual color and quite striking. Too bad she'd hacked most of it off. Her eyes, jade green, danced with fire when she was angry and admittedly when she was with him, she was usually furious.

He'd made so many mistakes. The first being that he had listened to what Prince John had told him about her and had the notion she'd need a firm hand. Gentle treatment would have served him much better. Instead, he had not only struck her, he'd attempted to force himself on her.

It was the worst sort of stupidity.

Too late now. She'd never forgive him, even if he wanted her to. And he wasn't sure he did, not yet. She'd still lashed out at him, had stabbed him, had let that oversized woodsman throw him into the wall. And she was firmly in league with Robin Hood.

That was perhaps the most galling thing of all. Did she love Locksley, like Marian had? He thought it was probably so. The man had the most irritating way with women. They all loved him, whether they stood a chance with him or not. A romantic hero. The thought made him sneer in disgust.

So why, then, when he had the chance to rid himself of her and still gain her lands, had he not simply put a crossbow bolt through her? He'd had the shot, had been putting the pressure on the trigger assembly, and at the last moment had sent it wild. It hit her a glancing blow, probably because she moved at the last second, but was in no way close to being mortal.

Was it perhaps a misplaced sense of guilt? He had killed Marian in a fit of rage. She had thrown her relationship with Hood at him, taunted him with it, gloated over it, and he just couldn't stop. And the guilt, the guilt of that action, it never left him. It tore at him in the small hours of the night, when it was so dark and still that it might be believed unhappy spirits still walked the earth, speaking to those who deserved death and damnation.

No matter. He was still going to bring her back. If she never forgave him, so be it. She was his wife, and she was going to play her part in this farce. They were joined by the laws of God and England, and she would obey them.

But still, Marian lurked in his mind, in his heart... and for a moment, he wondered if perhaps she was trying to tell him something. Then he pushed it aside and went about his day.


	9. Chapter 9

**To my Guest Reviewer: Thank you so much for the kind words! I'm so glad you're enjoying this!**

(Sherwood)

John rarely let Tom out of his sight any longer. After her breakdown, he seemed to be even more considerate of her, going out of his way to help her learn anything she'd need to know, helping her to adjust to life in the forest. He even went so far as to watch her training sessions with the others without so much as a growl. He seemed to be afraid she would break apart if he so much as glared at her, and she was getting quite tired of it.

It had only been a few days, but it was wearing on her. Finally, she said something. Just not to him. She didn't want to hurt his feelings. No, she went to Djaq. "I don't know what to do," she said simply. "I'm not made of glass, Djaq, how do I make him see that?" she asked wretchedly. She wanted him to see her, really see her, and not as helpless. "I can do things for myself, I really can."

Djaq gave a small laugh. "Why do you not see?" she asked in return. "He cares for you, silly one. He tries to ease your way. The things he does, he does so you don't have to. Not because he sees you as weak, but because he thinks you should not have to be so strong." She glanced down out of the camp to where the men were coming back from the road with a trunk. "He would die for you."

"I'd rather he live for me," Tom shot back without thinking. She blushed, but it was too late. "He's... he's everything my mother always described to me as a good man. He's kind, he's generous, he's protective of me, lord knows that. He's gentle, for all he's a big man, he's so gentle..."

"It sounds like you care for him too," Djaq said softly. "I almost waited too long to tell Will how I felt. It was only when we thought we would die that I could do it. Don't make the same mistake." She patted Tom's hand gently. "You should tell him."

"I don't know how." Tom's voice was the barest whisper of sound.

Djaq gave her hand a final pat and rose. "You will. And tomorrow we will go to your friend." She rose and went to meet the others and Tom followed, a little more slowly.

John gave her a strange look as they neared but then relaxed when she smiled at him. Robin was nearly crowing. "There's enough here to feed Locksley, Nettlestone, AND Clun for a month," he explained cheerfully. "And taken easily enough."

Tom grinned. "If no one was hurt, it was well done," she said simply as she went to John and touched his arm lightly. "So how much did we get, really? Is that thing full?"

"Yeah." Robin was watching her and the big man now with thinly veiled amusement. They'd been dancing around each other for days. "Must be at least 500 pounds in there."

Much shifted uncomfortably. His back still hurt and was stiff, but it was easing. "Hard enough to carry, it was," he grumbled.

"Who carries that much money through Sherwood any more?" Tom asked quietly. "Nobody wants to lose anything to us. Must be someone highly placed." John's arm had gone around her shoulders and she wanted to grin like an idiot but she wouldn't. It felt wonderful.

"Tax collector, most likely. He didn't give us a name." Robin shrugged and clapped Much on the shoulder. "Come on then, let's get you comfortable. I shouldn't have taken you with us."

Much shrugged away. "I'm fine," he mumbled.

"Much. Much, look at me." Robin's voice was firm and finally the man raised his eyes. "Don't lie to me, my friend. You're hurting. And you've been quiet, which isn't like you."

"I said I'm fine!" Much snapped as he turned away. Robin watched as he stalked into the main camp, concern in his eyes.

"He's not fine," Robin muttered as he turned to the others. "You know what to do with it." And with that, he followed his friend. "You're not fine, Much, so stop it. What's wrong?" But he was sure he knew when he stepped into the makeshift building they'd concealed. Much had his shirt off, and the welts were healing nicely. All except one, which had broken open again and was bleeding slightly. "You're NOT fine, Much. What's wrong? You're never this quiet and you're still bleeding."

"You want to know? Fine!" Much flopped onto his pallet, rolling over with a hiss when it pained his back. "When we thought we were going to die, in Nettlestone. We ALL bared our hearts to each other, we all bared our SOULS to each other. And you PROMISED to change things, once we lived through it. We went to the Holy Land, again, and it seemed better. But when we came home..." His voice trailed off and he took a deep breath. "When Marian died, you closed in. You shut us all out. Do you know how much that hurt? To know you've finally learned to call me your friend, to TREAT me as your friend, and then to lose that friendship so quickly? To see you fall back into the same old ways, the same old habits, the same nightmares and demons we fought together before and banished?" Tears stood in his eyes but he wouldn't let them fall as he faced the man he'd come to call brother in his own mind. "Did you never wonder why I was able to understand you enough to calm your fears? Why I could soothe you so easily from the grip of those horrible things that we saw, that we did? You forced yours from your mind, you said, in order to be able to save your gift with the bow." He rose then, getting right up in front of Robin, nearly nose to nose with the taller man. "Some of us weren't able to do that," he hissed. "Some of us learned the hard way to live with the nightmares, the fear, the horror, with everything that happened over there so that we could help those who couldn't. Some of us still suffer, every bloody day, from what we saw and did there. Some of us still can't sleep a full night for the nightmares. I wake up, and my first thought is, 'Did I scream? Did I wake the others?' And of course I haven't because you're all sleeping soundly. And the next thought I have is that sometimes, Robin, I hate you. Yes, I love you, I love you like my brother, but I still hate you. Because you got through this and I can't." He broke then, stumbling back and sitting hard on his pallet, weeping quietly. "I can't..."

"Oh, Much," Robin breathed as he went to his friend. He sat down on the pallet and pulled Much close, giving what comfort he could while avoiding the still tender lines on his back. "Why didn't you tell me? Wake me when you needed? I'd have listened, I'd have helped. We're in this together, my friend." He held the other man closely, letting him cry out some of his pain and anguish. "No more trying to do it alone, Much. You're a strong man, stronger than any man I know. But even the strongest man has limits." He let go when he felt Much stiffen and stood up. "Don't push yourself so hard. Come to me when it's too much. Talk to me. If you wake scared and feeling alone, come talk to me. I won't let you suffer like this, Much. There's no need. You helped me, you KEEP helping me. You give me strength. Let me give you mine in return. Let me help you."

"Right, then," Much said shakily. "If you're serious, then make up some of that nasty tea Djaq's been making me drink, okay? You said it's bleeding again? Bloody hell, that means she'll be in here poking and prodding around on it and making it hurt worse. Oh, go on, tell her to come look at it." He flapped a hand toward his friend. "You're going to anyway."

Robin gave a smirk as he left to get Djaq. "Can you give him something to let him sleep?" he asked quietly before she could slip past him.

She raised an eyebrow at him, and then nodded slightly. "I'll put it in the tea." She touched his hand and went to Much.


	10. Chapter 10

They stood in the edge of the trees, watching the pickets, alarmed. "Well we can't bloody well just march down the road and in the gate, can we?" Much demanded acidly. "They'd shoot us on sight!"

"Isn't that what we always do, though?" Robin countered easily. The others shifted nervously. "No, you're right, there has to be another way in." He scanned up and down the picket line with a frown. "Wait. The only one who HAS to get in, is Tom. Are you up to it?" He was watching her closely. He knew Gisborne was in the castle; if she saw him and froze, she'd be captured for sure. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do." It would make up for not saving Much from the lash, if nothing else. She still felt an enormous guilt for that. Seeing Gisborne had shocked her immobile and she hadn't been where they were to meet. So Much had gone looking for her, which got him caught and beaten. She was responsible and she was going to make amends if it killed her. "I'm the only one who can talk to Lisette. She's my best friend. If I can get in ten words, she'll help us. I just need to get inside."

"All right, then, we'll draw out the guards at the gates. You can slip inside once they're busy with us. And how do you get out?" Robin wasn't letting her do this without some kind of plan in place. And a contingency plan if that one failed.

"The same way, I suppose. Distract the guards somehow, or slip out with one of the wagons or something." She gave a shrug. She was frightened that she would run into her husband but she'd not let them see it.

"No. Give us time to think of a plan, Tom." Robin was firm. He didn't want any of his gang hurt, not ever, and this seemed like a ripe opportunity for something bad to happen to any of them. The guards might be better shots – unlikely. They might be smarter – even more so.

"Robin, shut up." Tom grinned to take some of the sting from her words. "If I can get in, I can get out. If I have to, I'll just walk out right down the middle of the road and hope no one recognizes me. That's probably going to be the best option, at that. I'm not so well known here, not yet."

"But the guards know you," John argued as he drew her in close. He'd become quite willing to hold her, to steady her, and now he used that familiarity to try and make her see reason. "They know what you look like or we'd never have gotten out before. It's too dangerous."

She touched his cheek lightly. "I'll be fine." She gave him a swift kiss on the cheek, surprising them both. "Now, if you lot would be so kind as to make some noise, I'll be on my way." But John didn't let her go. "John..."

He pulled her in closer and kissed her. She melted against him, letting him hold her weight, her arms around him, holding him as tightly as he held her. Then, reluctantly and regretfully, he set her back. "Go on, then. But you'd better be careful. Don't make us have to come in after you." But he couldn't say it with a straight face. "Go."

She was blushing furiously but nodded and started out onto the road. They wouldn't have been able to get past the pickets so she'd take the direct approach. And when Robin and the others stepped out, she was completely disregarded in favor of the guards chasing them. So she was able to simply walk in the gates, though she wasn't taking any unnecessary risks. Her cloak was pulled tight about her, the hood raised so her hair wasn't visible. It was distinctive and she couldn't chance being recognized by that alone.

She made her careful way into the village proper and went to the market. It would be open today, and Lisette loved to shop. There might be nothing she wanted, but she'd still wander around and look. So it was a simple matter to sidle up close when she found her friend and murmur a greeting. "You're looking well," she said quietly.

Lisette didn't turn but she did smile. "I was wondering when you'd turn up," she replied just as softly. "Trust you to take something as simple as getting married and turn it into such a farce."

"It wasn't exactly all my fault," Tom said with a growl. "He's a monster. I had no idea – and I had no choice. But that's not why I'm here."

"Oh, I know why you're here, certainly," Lisette replied and Tom felt a sharp stab of fear. "Robin Hood. Right? Well, you can forget me helping you with that. Someone has to keep these people in line. He's an outlaw and a murderer and I'll have nothing to do with him."

"What have you done?" Tom asked softly as she paled. "Lisette, what happened to you?"

"I learned my place," was the calm reply. "Don't bother to run, my friend. They know you're here. They've been watching."

Tom startled when the guards moved near but she prudently kept her hands away from her weapons. She made no attempt to flee when they surrounded her, and she went willingly enough when they told her they were taking her to the dungeon. She did, however, go completely white and take a step back when Gisborne appeared in front of them. "I'll take charge of the prisoner," he said simply as he waved them away.

He made no move to touch her, simply watched her for a moment before opening a door. "Inside."

She went. And she went immediately to the far wall, putting her back against it and watching him like a trapped animal. "What do you want?" she asked softly. She wanted to sound defiant, but it was too far beyond her.

"Five minutes of your time. That's all. I won't touch you, I won't even come near you. But I'd like you to listen." Guy wanted to make sure she understood. He still hated her. He still wouldn't forgive her for trying to kill him, and for making a fool of him. But he understood her reasons and that made a difference.

She kept wary eyes on him, but said nothing. Finally she nodded.

"Good. First, you need to understand something." How to put this? "When the idea of our marriage was presented to me, it seemed like a perfectly executed plan. I would have the power I craved, the wealth, the standing, and a capable if a bit headstrong wife. Then, when it was done, before we were actually introduced, Prince John told me of your true nature." His lips curled in a sneer.

"And that would be?" She couldn't help herself. This was so far from what she expected from him that she was intrigued. She had no weapons, the guards had taken them from her, and she had no illusion that she'd get close enough to steal one of his and hurt him with it. But he'd made no move toward her and she was starting to relax a little. Probably not prudent, but she was anyway.

"That you hated authority. That you would never bow to the will of a husband as you wouldn't bow to the will of your Prince." He ran a hand through his hair. "If allowed to meet you unhindered, Thomasina, I would never have raised a hand to you. I'd never even have raised my voice. I hurt you badly because I believed him and I will always regret that." His eyes hardened again and she stiffened. "But attacking me deserved a response and you got it."

"And what about YOU attacking ME?" She raged as she stepped forward, fists clenched. She stopped before she'd gone three steps, knowing that in a fight he could beat her easily. He'd proven it.

"A mistake. An awful one. One I regret more than you will ever understand." He half raised a hand toward her and lowered it when she stepped back again, almost flinching.

"What do you want?" she demanded suddenly, stiffening her spine and gathering her courage. There was something more here, more than a mere apology. She thought she knew what it was and he could rot in the deepest levels of hell.

"Thomasina. Tom." Her eyes flew to his face, flashing fire. "That IS what you prefer, isn't it? Look, we're both bound to this. It needn't be unpleasant. I don't care for you, and I never will. You weren't my choice. But if we present a united front, a marriage proper, we can both profit from it."

"You weren't my choice, either, you arrogant sod," Tom shot back furiously. Her fear was forgotten for the moment in her anger. "And it would be extremely unpleasant, because I loathe the very sight of you. And how, pray tell, would ~I~ benefit from it? I'd be tied to you forever. No, thank you." She'd have to find a way to get past him.

"You would be free." His words were soft, persuasive. "I can protect you from Vaizey and Prince John, as long as you remain my wife in fact. No more hiding in the forest, eating slop. No more running from the guards every time you see one. I will treat you well, and you will be kept in complete comfort." He extended his hand toward her, watching her.

She eyed his hand warily. "And if I refuse?" She wasn't about to accept, even to save her own skin. She might be bound to this bastard by marriage, but her heart was bound to John's by love. She'd never betray that.

He sighed heavily and drew his hand back. "I'll get you out of the castle. From there, you're on your own. I can't protect you if you don't stay."

She blinked. He would do that for her even if she refused him? Had she really misjudged him so badly? It seemed so. She shook her head. "I can't."

Guy looked at the ceiling for a moment before withdrawing two parchments and a small package. "Here. Go to the Trip Inn. The guards won't bother you, they'll be elsewhere. Give this one to the barkeep. He'll think you're on a courier run for the Sheriff and will show you a secret way out. You'll emerge far beyond the picket lines. You'll be safe." She had refused him. He'd given her his apologies, his best arguments, and they hadn't swayed her. Why? Women were supposed to want comfort and protection. And the infuriating little wench in front of him wanted nothing to do with them. She'd rather remain cold, hungry, and free in the forest than stay with him.

It was galling.

"What's in the other?" she asked quietly as she turned it over in her hands. Prince John's seal? Was he REALLY giving them information?

"Nothing. It's merely a ruse to get you out safely. The message is blank. The package, that is for you. An apology, of sorts." He did finally touch her then, a swift, short caress of her cheek before stepping away and opening the door. "Go, before I change my mind."

She watched him for a moment. "You'll need something to tell them as to how I escaped yet again."

"Don't worry about that part. There's a key in the door. Lock me in. I'll give you a count of a hundred and then I'm going to start yelling for the guards." Why was he doing this? She was a traitor, a thief, and an outlaw. She wanted nothing to do with him, not even in friendship. She hated him. So why was he helping her?

Because he had to. Because he hadn't helped Marian when he should have. Because instead of helping Marian, he had brought her death at his own hand. That wasn't going to happen again. He'd not kill, or allow to be killed, one he should protect. She was his wife, even if she didn't acknowledge it. He owed her protection.

So he waited until she had done as she asked and drew his dagger, regarding it steadily for only a moment before drawing a slice down the chest piece of his leather, scoring it deeply though not biting through to skin. It would give the appearance of a fight to anyone looking for such. Then, once he reached a hundred, he started yelling.


	11. Chapter 11

**To my Guest reviewer: You make my day. Thank you so much for the kind words! I look forward to your reviews!**

It was a very quiet night at the outlaws' camp.

The failure of Tom's plan had shaken them all. Tom simply couldn't credit it, couldn't understand what had made her best friend, the girl she had grown up with, had shared schooling with, had considered the closest thing she would ever have to a sister could have betrayed her so badly.

She sighed heavily and regarded the little package Gisborne had given her again. She had the admittedly insane urge to poke it with a knife or something to be sure it was safe to open, but she didn't do it. She simply left it on the table in front of her and stared at it. She wasn't sure she wanted whatever gift it might contain.

Her mind wandered off into memory again and she was totally oblivious to the others watching her watch the little bundle. Had she really been so wrong about her husband? Recent events would seem to answer a resounding affirmative. He had kept his word. All he had done was talk. He'd even apologized to her for being such a bastard. She hadn't expected it.

He had touched her, but only lightly and only for a bare moment. His fingers had grazed the spot where he'd bruised her so badly, and the touch was feather light, almost apologetic. It had definitely been a caress.

"She's thinking about him," John muttered darkly as he got up to leave. Djaq grabbed his hand and dragged him back down and Will sat on the other side.

"Yes, she is," she stated flatly. "She is confused. She hates him for the way he has treated her, and yet this time, he not only was kind, he helped her to escape." None of them could really credit it. What had brought about such an amazing turn around? The man was known far and wide for his cruelty and for him to suddenly show such kindness and mercy was a little scary.

John growled but he stayed, watching Tom. Whatever she was thinking, it wasn't pleasant. She seemed shaken and it bothered him. He wanted to comfort her and didn't know how, and at the same time he was insanely jealous that the man was even IN her thoughts, much less consuming them. Finally he rose, over Djaq's protests and went to sit next to her. His arm went around her shoulders and she gave him a wan smile. "Staring at it won't make any difference," he commented idly.

"I know," she murmured back as she let her head fall against his shoulder. "But I'm almost afraid to open it. I don't know what he'd give me. And I don't want to like whatever's inside, because that'd mean I didn't hate him any more and I have to hate him. He hurt me, he tried to rape me, and I can't get past that. I can't."

John nodded and then remembered she couldn't see him do it from her angle. "He did all those things, yes," he said slowly, "but he also apologized. He saved your life."

"I know," she repeated. "And I should be grateful. But all I can think about is revenge." She snuggled a little closer, still watching the little bundle. It was wrapped in oilcloth and too small to be anything of much use, yet too big to be some kind of jewelry. It was a puzzle and she suddenly wanted to solve it. She reached for it, undid the string, and let the cloth fall away.

Her dagger. The one her father had given her, the one she'd tried to kill her husband with. Gisborne had given it back to her.

Did he know how much it meant to her? Was that why he'd given it back? She wasn't sure of anything any more – except the big man at her side. John'd never allow anyone to hurt her. She regarded the little knife closely for a moment and then slipped it into her accustomed place up her sleeve. Then she raised her face to his, smiling a little. "It was a gift from my father," she explained quietly. "I'm glad to have it back." But there were so many unanswered questions in her mind.

He seemed to sense her mood and pulled her closer, holding her tightly. She shifted a bit and relaxed into his arms, feeling the warmth of him now at her back, his heartbeat strong and steady.

She could get used to this, she thought contentedly. Then she felt a little tickle along her arm, where the dagger rested. She brought it out, finding a small scrap of parchment secured to the handle. She released it, slid the dagger back into the sheathe in her sleeve, and opened the letter. It was short and to the point.

_My wife,_

_I return this to you as a gesture of respect, one warrior to another. May it continue to protect you as it has done already._

_Your Husband,_

_Guy_

She read it through again, and then a third time. He respected her? This problem just got more and more complicated. What was she going to do? She'd NEVER go to her husband. She wanted him dead and right now, that was a bad idea for any number of reasons. But hadn't he redeemed himself, at least slightly? As John had reminded her, as she was well aware, he had saved her life. Deep breath. All right, that gave him a pass on death. But she was still going to hurt him. Badly.

"Is it something bad?" John asked softly. His lips were next to her ear and she shivered at the feel of his breath against the delicate shell.

"No," she murmured as she rested her hands atop his arms. "It's... an apology of sorts. And I think... I think I should accept it." She sighed heavily. "But I hate him. And I will never really forgive him."

John simply shifted a bit, bringing her into even closer contact, and she snuggled down into his lap. "Then no more thoughts of him, aye? He can't hurt you any more. You're safe with us." His breath caressed her ear again. "With me."

She tipped her face up to his and pressed a light kiss on his lips, and then rose to leave the camp. John followed a moment later, oblivious to the snickers from Robin and Will and Much's outraged sputter. Robin also rose. "We should rest," he said firmly. "Much, first watch, Djaq, then me."

Much went to the spyhole and the others laid down on their pallets. When Robin spoke like that, they listened. Besides, none of them really wanted to intrude on their friends' privacy.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Thanks to all those sill following this story. :) Sorry for the late updates; nasty storms rolled through here and I'm only just now able to get back to this! Hope to resume the daily update schedule now...**_

Tom waited just out of sight of their camp. She knew John would follow. There were things they needed to say to each other, and she hadn't wanted an audience. What she felt for him – she didn't know what to call it. Not gratitude, though there was an element of it. Nor just safety, though she felt safer with him than anywhere else or with anyone else. No, it was much more than that.

His touch, even the lightest graze of his fingers against her skin, set her on fire. The one time he had kissed her, she'd lost all control of her faculties for several moments. Only once, and the memory was seared into her mind and heart.

But it was more than that. She felt empty when he wasn't around, she felt cold when he wasn't holding her. She felt complete with him.

She loved him.

She heard him come up behind her and said nothing, simply sat on the stony outcropping overlooking the forest floor and waited for him to join her, remaining silent.

He settled next to her again, slipped his arm around her, and just held her. She was precious to him, more precious than anything in the world, even more than his own life. He felt whole again, as he hadn't since he'd left his Alice to live in the forest as a dead man. He'd never expected to feel this again, and yet it was different. Not stronger; he'd love his Alice till the day he died. But what he felt for Tom was just as strong, even if it was newly found.

He brushed a kiss across her hair and stroked it lightly before tipping her face up to kiss her gently. She wound her arms around his neck, fingers idly running through the hair at his nape. She sighed softly and he deepened the kiss, laying her gently down among the leaves. He drew back, his big hands framing her face, watching her closely. "Do you trust me?" he murmured.

"With my life," she answered softly. She had come out here to talk to him, but this, this was much more to her liking.

"If you want to stop, we stop," he whispered against her lips. And at her nod, he kissed her again, this time more passionately. One hand slid down along her rib cage, finding its way under her tunic to stroke bare skin and she shivered into his touch.

He was gentle but he was thorough and she was nearly screaming with need by the time he moved over her. His eyes held hers for a long moment, asking the question, and she arched up against him with a cry.

He took her scream into his kiss as he thrust deep inside her and he stilled immediately, allowing her to adjust to the sensation. Her fingers moved to thread through his hair, tugging slightly to bring his lips to hers once more, letting him know she was ready, that she needed him to finish this. Slowly he began to move, picking up the pace as she responded once more, sighing, gasping, and moaning as her need rose with his movements.

She wailed as it took her, and John again captured the sound with his own lips. He followed closely after, spilling inside her with a ragged groan that sounded suspiciously like her name. Then he rolled them to land with her atop him and simply held her, his rough hands rubbing her back lightly.

He was a little overwhelmed. She'd fought so hard to keep herself from her husband – and she had freely given John everything. It touched him more deeply than anything in his life. But he couldn't say the words.

He kissed her hair gently. "We should go back," he said quietly. "We can't stay out here all night, it isn't safe."

He helped her to dress, helped her brush some of the leaves from her hair, stealing kisses whenever he could and enjoying her responses.

And when Djaq woke Robin for his watch, he found them curled up together on John's pallet.

(Nottingham Castle)

Gisborne knelt before Prince John, his eyes on the floor and his mind in turmoil. How had he come to this? "You, sir, do NOT love me," Prince John was saying angrily. His voice was a strangled scream of rage. "You let her go!"

"Sire, may I speak?" Guy kept his voice soft and respectful. He was already nursing bruises from where Vaizey had gotten hold of him in a rage, and he was nothing compared to the prince.

"You may not." Prince John rose and circled him, and Gisborne could hear his teeth grinding. "You do not understand, perhaps, why it's so important that you bring her back to your side, Guy." He leaned down and murmured in the knight's ear. "I trusted you to bring her in line, to teach her where her loyalties should lie. And yet you have not done so." One hand dropped to Gisborne's hair, caressing it lightly, and then suddenly tightening in it and hauling his head back until the knight's throat was bared to the knife that had appeared in his Prince's hand. "She is the one asset I possess that could bring me everything. I chose to give her to you. Have I made a mistake, Guy?" He dropped the knife and stepped back, watching Gisborne carefully as he arranged himself on the Sheriff's throne. "Explain to me why you have failed me, Gisborne."

"Yes, Sire." Guy didn't look up. He had to choose his words carefully and watching the Prince's face wouldn't help with that. He knew John desired the crown more than anything; it had made them kindred spirits, of a sort, until now. Now, Guy was beginning to learn that perhaps there was more in the world than wealth and power. Still, he had to play the part in order to stay alive. "My King," he began softly and watched from the corner of his eye as John preened in undisguised glee. Yes, that was the right note to take. "My King, she is... quite different than you described. Headstrong, willful, yes, but also quite reasonable when pressed. I did ask you asked and treated her with disregard for her needs and wishes and was stabbed for my presumption." The still healing cut on his belly twinged and he ignored it. "She returned, and I softened my approach somewhat. It changed nothing and I considered that perhaps you had been correct, and applied a firm hand. I will spare you the details but she had help to escape me then. She has fallen in with Robin Hood's lot."

That brought him a snarl of rage and a heavy blow that sent him sideways onto the floor. "And what of her last foray into Nottingham, you idiot? YOU HELPED HER ESCAPE! Tell me why and perhaps I will spare your life."

Gisborne blotted a bit of blood from the corner of his mouth. "It was a way to earn her trust, as much as anything," he said simply. He rose no further than his knees, preferring not to antagonize John any more. "If she thinks she can rely on me to keep her safe if she comes here, she will come more often. And that not only puts her back within my reach, it brings Robin Hood as well."

John considered for a moment before nodding slowly. "You present a good plan, Gisborne, but you play a very dangerous game. Fail me again and you will die. Slowly, and in agony, I will see to it personally. You must bring her back, you must get an heir on her. Her lands and her gold MUST remain in our possession. They must not fall into the hands of those loyal to my brother." He drew close to Gisborne again, leaning down to murmur into his ear again. "Have you no idea why she is such an important piece to this puzzle?"

Guy didn't look up. He knew it was meant to tease him, to tempt him to forget his place. He wasn't about to do so. He valued his life too much. "None, my King," he said softly. He was beginning to have suspicions, but he'd not voice them.

John stepped back and flopped once more into the throne. "Oh, do get up, then. Come, sit. Have a drink, some food." Inwardly he was more than pleased with this man's devotion. Few would openly call him King, especially while his hated brother still lived. "And we can discuss just why my bastard sister is so important to our cause."

Gisborne nearly choked on his shock but forced the reaction down quickly. Oh, everyone knew that King Henry had left bastards all over the country, but he'd never considered this possibility. And he was married to the wench. "Why then don't you just kill her and be done with it?" he asked quietly as he settled himself across from the Prince. "The contract states that if she dies before she provides an heir, it all goes to me." He shrugged. "You are well aware of my loyalty."

"Yes, about that," John sneered. "If you were loyal, Gisborne, you would have settled this the first night, you would have broken her and this would all be unnecessary. As for killing her... it suits me far better to torment her. Now, how are you going to bring her back?"


	13. Chapter 13

Things settled down for a few days. Robin's gang ambushed a few travelers, they gained some food and gold for the villages, but nothing of major import occurred until Tom took something from the chest they'd "liberated" the day before their last disastrous outing to Nottingham.

Her face went white and she let the little brooch fall from fingers numb with shock. "You said you took this from a traveler on his way into Nottingham," she said slowly. Abruptly she gave a brittle little laugh. "Well, at least I know why she betrayed us," she scoffed bitterly. "The man you took this from was either her husband or the driver carrying Lisette's belongings. That brooch was a gift, from my mother to hers. She'd have been furious."

Robin dropped his head in disgust. "I should have known. I cost you a friend and I caused you pain and for that, I'm sorry."

Tom shrugged. "It was bound to happen eventually. And it was a fool's plan to start with. We hadn't seen each other for months, I had no idea what she'd become like. Her husband has her thoroughly cowed. She'd never go against him." She sighed.

John's hand on her shoulder steadied her. She looked up at him, smiling a little, and put her hand across his.

Robin watched them and fought down the ever present sorrow when he was reminded of Marian. "We need to do something," he said suddenly as he rose to pace. "We can't just sit there. We've helped, but we need to do more. The people in Locksley, they're suffering. In Clun, in Nettlestone. We bring food, we bring gold, and the Sheriff simply raises their taxes. There has to be more."

"We do what we can." John's voice was firm. "We always have. Always will." He caught Robin's eye and held it. "We are Robin Hood."

The others repeated the words, even Tom. Robin watched them, pride dancing in his eyes. Yes, they were Robin Hood. He thought that even if he fell, they would go on in his memory. And that thought he shoved down deep inside where I wouldn't look so tempting. He would see Marian again, he knew that. No point in going looking for death.

Tom gave John's hand a pat and went to Robin where he'd turned away. He was a few steps away from the rest of them, obviously thinking hard. The others would give him privacy, but she thought maybe that wasn't what he needed. She caught Much's eye on the way past and he gave a nod and a tiny smile. Apparently he felt the same.

She caught up to Robin a few yards away, where he'd perched on a rock, looking out over the forest. "Mind some company?" she asked quietly as she settled next to him. They sat in silence for a few moments before she spoke again. "Why didn't you kill him?" she asked finally, as though the answer meant nothing to her. In truth, it meant a great deal. She wanted to kill Gisborne herself and the only thing that had stayed her hand was what might happen to the people if she did. Why hadn't Robin done it? He had much more reason to hate the man than she did.

"Because this way, he suffers more." Robin didn't mince words. If he'd thought killing Gisborne would have helped him deal with losing Marian, he'd have done it a long time ago. But the knight had loved her, in his own twisted little way, and killing her had broken something in him. The horror, the pain, the regret had been clearly etched into Gisborne's face as he let her body slide to the ground, there in Acre. Robin saw it every day, every time he closed his eyes at night, he saw Marian die. All the horrors of war, and now she numbered among them. "He didn't mean to kill her, Tom. I truly think it was an accident. He lost his temper, I don't know why. Probably because she got between him and King Richard."

"How is he suffering, though? He's got wealth, power... he has YOUR lands, your HOUSE... I don't see the suffering, really." But maybe she had. Gisborne's face, that last time in Nottingham, when he had let her go. It had been full of longing, of – she didn't know what to call it. Regret. Sorrow. Yes, Robin was right. "But it obviously isn't enough. He's still seeking power."

"He's suffering because he doesn't have her." Robin snapped his jaw shut and Tom would have dropped the subject if he hadn't suddenly sighed and turned to her. "And he's learning that all the power, all the wealth in the world isn't enough if you don't have someone in your heart. I have Marian. I know she'll be waiting for me, when I die. He has no one. And if he doesn't change, he never will."

"But he is changing, isn't he?" Tom was thoughtful for several moments. Gisborne had been truly awful to her when they met, and more horrid still when she tricked him to help Robin. And then he'd done a complete turn around and helped her. She still didn't understand it. "He could have done anything he wanted with me when I was in Nottingham. And instead, he set me free. Why would he do that?"

"Probably because it suited his purpose at the time," Robin snarked. "Don't trust him, Tom. Not for one minute. The one thing he wants in his life is power, position. If you stand in the way of that, he'll kill you too." He looked up at her then, his own eyes hooded. "You can't bargain with him, you can't argue with him. He will have his way, whatever it is."

"I know. Believe me, I want nothing to do with him. I'd love to shove my dagger into his heart, but that would be a mistake. Vaizey and Prince John would simply find someone worse to take his place." She shrugged. "I didn't come up here to talk about him, not really. We're worried about you, Robin. All of us. You're quiet, you're withdrawn. Oh, you go through the motions, you smirk when you think you should, you laugh at jokes, but none of it touches your eyes. Much is nearly tearing his hair out trying to figure out what's wrong. He thinks the next time there's a scrap, you might just forget to guard yourself and end up dead."

She knew the moment she said it. Much was right. Maybe it wasn't a conscious wish on his part, but Robin was courting death, nonetheless. "Robin, would Marian want you to die?" she asked softly as she touched his cheek to turn him toward her.

He fought that gentle pull, kept his face turned away. "It doesn't matter," he said in turn. "She's gone. And I can't – I can't hear her voice any more. I can't see her face. And I don't want to forget her, Tom, I can't forget her, how could I forget my heart?"

"You can't and you won't," she replied softly as she simply drew him in close to hold him. He was shaking, but whether from rage or sorrow, she wasn't sure. There was anger in his voice, anger at himself for what he saw as a betrayal, losing the memory of how her voice sounded, months after her death. "You'll never forget her, Robin. You might forget the look of her, or the sound, but never HER. She'll always be with you, in your heart. And she wouldn't want this for you."

He scoffed but the sound was almost immediately swallowed by a stifled sob. He was hurting so badly, and she didn't know how to help him. And he was fighting her loose hold, so she let him go. She watched as he rose and stalked away, obviously wanting to be alone with his grief, and she felt her heart break for him. And if Gisborne had loved the woman at all, even half as much as Robin, then yes, he was suffering. They were both in hell. Gisborne she didn't care about, he could rot. But Robin, her friend, there had to be something that would help him. There just had to be.


	14. Chapter 14

They went into Locksley the next day to distribute more food and gold, and that was where the first gift was given. One of the children came up to Tom, tugging on her pants leg, and she looked down with a smile. "What's this?" she asked as he thrust a small package into her hands.

"Sir Guy gave me a penny to give this to you when I saw you," he said proudly. "A whole penny! It must be important."

"A whole penny! Well, that certainly sounds important." She ruffled his hair. "Thank you, kind sir. Run along, now. I'm sure you've some chores to do."

He ran off and the others regarded her steadily while she stared at the little box. She didn't want gifts from him. But giving the child a whole penny? That certainly wasn't like the Gisborne they knew. John looked angry, but she ignored it for the moment. She knew he was jealous and she didn't want to deal with that right now. She opened the box.

Her eyes went wide and then filled up. When she'd run to the forest, she'd thought she'd never have anything from her past. Her mother's sapphire ring lay on the velvet. She took it out and slipped it onto her finger, and then she found the note.

_Thomasina,_

_I know there is much bad between us. I would make that right if I could. If I cannot have your heart, I would at least have your friendship. The servants at Sibley tell me this ring was much beloved by your mother and that you were meant to have it on her death. It is yours by right and I give it to you freely, to ease some of the pain I have caused. _

_Guy._

John slipped up beside her and put his arm around her. For all he was furious at Gisborne for holding any part of her thoughts, he wasn't angry at her. But the ring rankled at him. What did it mean?

"It was my mother's," she said softly. "I never expected to see it again. He said the servants at Sibley told him about it."

"Well, at least we know he isn't here," Much piped up. "What? If he's at Sibley -"

"He had to be here to give it to the boy," Robin explained patiently. "Which means he's probably lurking somewhere about now. So why hasn't he come after us?"

"Because he's protecting me," Tom said softly. "I don't understand it. I've done nothing but hurt him and try to kill him and he's offering me friendship. I don't understand. And it makes me feel very, very petty and mean." She leaned against John for support.

"He's trying to change." Djaq's voice was quiet but strong. "When he killed Marian, his face – he was horrified by what he'd done. Anger, horror, guilt, sorrow, all those things I saw in him. Perhaps he seeks some kind of penance with your God for his mistake?"

"God may forgive him. I never will." Robin stalked out of the little enclosure, headed back for Sherwood. Tom watched him go, her own confusion swirling madly in her head. Should she forgive him? How could she? He had hurt her, he had tried to take her by force, how could she forgive that?

But since then, he had been kind. He had been helpful. He had saved her life at the risk of his own. How could she not forgive him?

She groaned and went after Robin. Maybe if she concentrated on his problems she wouldn't have to think about hers. She didn't want to hurt John, and every time Gisborne did something like this, it did.

The others followed her. They all went back to camp, but Robin was once more on the heights, alone and brooding. Tom and Much shared a glance when she would have gone up and he went instead.

She leaned against John. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I wish things were different."

He drew her a short distance away. "Why?" Was she going to leave? He loved her, even if he couldn't say the words. No, she wouldn't leave him. She had given John everything and Gisborne nothing. He needed to stop being so jealous. He could trust her, he did trust her. He just didn't know how to say those words to her.

Tom drew his face down and kissed him gently. "Because I can offer you nothing," she said simply. "I love you. I think I have since the first minute you saw through my little disguise and offered to help me. You're kind, and gentle, and so very, very fierce when you believe in what you fight for. And you have such a big, big heart." She held his gaze, blushing slightly. "You have such a way with the children. I... wondered why you didn't have any of your own."

He went still and silent, looking away, and she turned his face back to hers, feeling wretched. "I shouldn't have asked," she murmured. "I'm sorry."

He drew her further away, into the forest, to sit within sight but not sound of the camp. He pulled her close, holding her tightly, but it was several minutes before he made any sound. "Her name is Alice," he said simply, but his words were soft and sad. "I don't know where she is now, her or my son. I'll never see her again. Or him."

Tom went very, very still. Another woman. She'd never considered that possibility.

John was thinking hard, choosing his words carefully. For all he was jealous of Gisborne, shouldn't she be the same? He was as married as she was. At least he loved his wife; but he was discovering that for as much as he loved Alice, he loved Tom more. "I gave them up when I became an outlaw," he said quietly. "They thought I was dead. I let them believe it." He shook his head. "She found someone else, someone to take care of them. I let them go." No, he hadn't. He'd sent them away, and she'd been if not glad to go, at least content.

"You still love her." Tom's voice was barely audible. She hadn't had a clue that he felt that way about anyone besides her. She knew he loved her; it was in the way he stayed near, offering support and protection while allowing her freedom. It was in the way he held her in the night, his kisses, his touch. But she thought now she understood why he was so upset about her husband; the thought of him with this Alice, it hurt. It felt like a knife in her guts.

He nodded. He loved his Alice; but these days, it was Tom in his thoughts, Tom he wanted to wake up with, to spend his life with. Tom he wanted to grow old with and the way things were going, that wasn't going to happen. Outlaws rarely got old. But why couldn't he say those words to her? Instead, he tipped her face up and kissed her, letting everything he felt pour into it.

She melted against him, accepting everything he didn't say. And when he loved her, when they found their release together, it was her name on his lips, not Alice's. And that was enough.


	15. Chapter 15

Robin ignored Much's approach, and tried to ignore his friend's greeting, but Much wasn't having it. He settled beside the archer, his face grim. "Master?" It was the one thing guaranteed to get Robin's attention. He hadn't called the man his master for a long time.

"You're a free man, Much, you call no man master," Robin replied absently with the ease of long friendship. "What's on your mind?" There had to be something to bring him up here when it was obvious Robin wanted some privacy.

"She wouldn't want this for you, you know," Much said quietly as he followed Robin's gaze. "She'd hate the idea that you're pining for her. And she wouldn't want you to die just to follow her."

"Much!" Robin swiveled to regard his friend with some consternation. "What makes you think I'd die? The Sheriff and Gisborne, they're not that good." He wore his customary smirk, but suddenly he realized he wasn't fooling Much. His friend had been beside him for a very, very long time. He knew Robin's moods as well as he himself did and often knew what Robin was thinking. No, he wasn't fooling Much. "I don't want to die." Stubborn to the end, that was him; and he'd keep denying it. Maybe if he kept denying it long enough he'd believe it.

"Then stop taking such foolish risks." Much's voice held a note of strength Robin wasn't used to hearing from him. "Risking the pickets at Nottingham was sheer idiocy. And if Gisborne hadn't helped Tom, we'd never have gotten her out without losing some of us. It was a stupid plan in the first place, and she's the first to say so. But you went along with it." He shook his head. "I'm your friend, Robin, and always will be. But I need you to help me, and you can't do that if you're dead. Please." He shook his head. "Don't do this. We need you. ~I~ need you. I've few enough friends in this world, don't make that number smaller."

"I'm not going to die, Much." But Robin gave a sigh of resignation, just the same. "I promise not to do anything any more foolish than normal. Is that enough to keep you quiet?" But the rebuke was tempered with a small smile, a genuine one this time.

"As long as you're not actively seeking death, I suppose," Much replied with a long-suffering air. "But this discussion isn't over, either. I'll be watching, and I imagine the others will be, as well. They're all afraid for you, too."

"Then let's stop talking about it for now. I gave you my promise. That's going to have to be enough." And it would be, Robin realized. His word was important to him; he'd never break it. So, time to stop being more foolish than normal and work out some new plans. "We were in Locksley this morning; there was nothing happening. We need to go to Nottingham, we need to find a way to get hold of more of the Sheriff's gold."

"Let's talk about something else, first. Did you notice something different in Locksley this morning?" Much had to voice it. He'd been shocked, especially since Gisborne was actually THERE at the time.

Robin considered for a moment. "The people were less frightened," he said slowly as he replayed the visit in his mind.

"Notice the children? They were actually playing." Much looked out into the forest. "I talked to a few of the women. Gisborne's changed things. He's not made life any easier, but he's stopped with a lot of the punishments. If you're sick, I mean really sick, you don't have to work. New mothers have a few days to care for the babes. It's – well, it isn't like him at all, really. He's being kind."

Robin didn't want to face what that might mean. The knight had been so cruel for so long... that he might change now, it just didn't make sense to him. "He's not following the Sheriff's laws?"

"Yes, he is. But you know the lord of the manor can decide which punishment to use for minor crimes. Crimes such as not working. And Gisborne's – well, he hasn't gone soft, not really, but he's eased the punishments. They don't have to worry about being turned out for being ill. As long as they pay their taxes, they give their tribute to Gisborne, he's letting them alone." Much was still shocked at the thought. "But he's not going against the Sheriff, either. If the tax man comes and they can't pay, he puts them out. He lets things seem to stand while Vaizey's around, and then things ease up again."

"He's playing a very dangerous game, if that's what he's up to," Robin said succinctly. "I think I need to have a talk with Tom's husband, at that."

(a bit later)

It was a simple matter to wait until dark and slip into the manor at Locksley. Robin had been doing it since he was a child, it was easy to remember how to do it unseen and he did so.

He crept across the floor, silent as the grave, and stood looking at his enemy for a moment, one hand on his knife, wondering if he should just kill the man while he slept. It would be easy to do. One swift, sure strike across the throat would let them rest, would allow Tom peace. But he couldn't do it. He wasn't a murderer or assassin.

That decided, Robin sank into a chair near the bed and kept watch for a moment. What was it about this man? He had been a menace for so long, was it so unbelievable that he could change?

As he watched, Gisborne thrashed in the grip of some nightmare. His face was tortured, full of grief and guilt. He moaned, a lost, despairing sound, and Robin decided he'd heard enough. He stepped away several paces where the knight couldn't reach him if he woke up ugly and used the fireplace poker to shove at his leg.

Gisborne woke with a shout and a thrown dagger and Robin barely dodged it. "Easy, now!" he growled from his new perch on the end of the bed. His hand was on his own knife. "I'm here to talk, nothing more," he growled.

"Then talk," Gisborne snapped as he ran his hands through his hair and settled back against the headboard, watching the outlaw carefully. He had another dagger if it came down to it and he didn't trust Hood.

"Why are you treating these people differently?" Robin demanded. It wasn't how he'd meant the question to come out, but no matter. Blunt was probably better. "You're being kind, Gisborne, and that isn't like you."

Guy shrugged. "You wouldn't understand," he said quietly. He wasn't sure HE understood. But Marian haunted him, he dreamed of her, of her death, he dreamed of her coming to him to change, to be a better man. All the things she had done in her life, as the Nightwatchman, she had done to make things better; and now she came to him in his dreams, demanding he change, that he atone for killing her. It was the only way he felt any lessening of the guilt for her death, was in changing his cruelty for if not kindness then at least not viciousness.

"Try me." Robin was marginally encouraged. The knight hadn't attacked him out of hand, hadn't demanded his departure. It was a start. And there was something in his face, something fearful. That he hadn't expected.

Guy had to swallow twice before he could say it out loud. "Marian." He was hoping that would explain everything.

"You killed her!" Everything Robin had been holding back came to the fore with those simple words. His anger, his fury at losing her to this man's hand, his devastation at her death, his desire to join her in death, everything came crashing in on him and he snarled wordless threats at the other man.

"I know." Quiet, hopeless words. "You don't know what I would do to take that back. To hear her laugh, see her smile, even when they weren't for me her smiles were beautiful. But she was never mine." His words carried a bitter tinge. "She was the love of my life but she was never mine." He glared over at Robin as though finally registering his presence. "She was always yours."

Robin said nothing. Gisborne's pain resonated with his own and he didn't want to accept that. They had both loved Marian, both of them, and her death had nearly destroyed them both. Just the same, Robin didn't want to accept the knight's pain. He wanted to keep him at arm's length, keep him firmly labeled as the enemy. Unfortunately, it wasn't working.

"She haunts me," Gisborne was saying and Robin's unease deepened. If he could make this man his ally – no! What was he thinking? He couldn't be trusted! Ruthlessly he drew his attention back to the other's words. "She is in my thoughts, my dreams. She rails against injustice, and she condemns my plots to gain power. The only time she is silent is when I do something she would consider 'right.'" He shook his head.

Robin thought for a moment. "She's become your conscience," he said slowly. There were worse things that could happen; if Gisborne could be counted an ally – no. No, he couldn't be trusted.

Guy nodded. "These people... I never truly understood they WERE people, I don't think. Peasants, cattle, they were much the same to me. She taught me otherwise." He rose and went to the fireplace, stirring up the embers a bit to add a little more wood. His back was completely unprotected and for a moment Robin considered knifing it, but this was too informative. "That I have hurt so many people – I surely have a place reserved in hell. But at least in this life I can try to atone for those mistakes."

Robin couldn't speak for several moments. Gisborne seemed so sincere, so driven; but could he be trusted? "You used to enjoy the sounds people made while they were punished," he said slowly. "Or at least, you seemed to."

Gisborne shrugged, still not looking at him. "You'll believe what you will," he replied evenly. "But believe this, if nothing else. I bear you no further ill will. I must keep up appearances, but I mean no harm to you or any of your gang. I will help you if I can."

"You'll help us." THAT Robin just couldn't believe. "What of Tom, then?" he demanded suddenly. "You've hurt her badly."

"That was never my intent, even at the start," Gisborne said with some heat. "I believed what I was told, and for that I'm sorry. I would make things right if I could, but she wouldn't come back, even if she were free to do so. I hurt her too badly for that." He shook his head and sank into the chair, watching the flames, seemingly oblivious to Robin's presence save that he was still conversing. "But I will try to make it right, nonetheless."

"If you really mean to help us, help these people," Robin said quickly. "Help them have enough to eat. Don't punish them for stupid reasons. And when the taxes come due, be reasonable."

"I'll do all I can," the knight promised. "But I must go carefully; the dungeon waits if I make a mistake. I'll send word when I can if there's news you should hear. That's the best I can offer."

Robin nodded and suddenly offered his hand to the other man. For all he wanted not to believe, for all he wanted still to mistrust, he couldn't. There was too much pain in the knight's eyes, too much self-loathing for him to ignore. He meant what he was saying. "For Marian," he said quietly.

Gisborne took it and then cocked his head. "Nearly dawn," he murmured with a jerk of his head toward the window. "If you're caught here, I'll have to arrest you. Go."

Robin gave him a cheeky grin. "You could try," he scoffed good-naturedly as he dropped from the window. He melted into the darkness just before dawn with a lot on his mind.


	16. Chapter 16

"You haven't brought her back, Gisborne," Prince John snarked as he watched the knight where he knelt before him. "You gave me your word. How should I have you killed, hm? I think a simple hanging would be anti-climactic, don't you?"

Two days after Robin's impromptu visit to him, Gisborne had been summoned back to the castle. Now, he knelt before the prince, waiting for the axe to fall. Had he been careful enough? He would soon see. "It will take a bit more time, my King," he said quietly. "I've gained their trust. It will be simple now to bring them in."

"Yes, well, that's all well and good, my friend," And Prince John came down from his seat to caress Gisborne's hair. The knight had to fight down a shudder of revulsion. "But I've changed my mind about her usefulness. If left alive, she could be a rallying point, for herself or for Richard. Kill her. Gain her lands, gain her gold, and be rid of the troublesome little monster."

Guy nodded. "Might I ask a question, sire?" he said softly. He needed to know what was going on in the Prince's mind.

"Oh, do get up. I like you, Gisborne," John said testily as he minced back to his throne. "You're the most slippery, backstabbing, conniving man I've ever met, excluding myself of course. One could wonder exactly whose side you're really on, hm?"

Guy rose, fighting the urge to stretch the kinks out of his long legs. "I am, as ever, a servant of the King," he said softly as he kissed John's ring.

"What's your question, my slippery friend?" John asked with some asperity.

Guy considered his words carefully. "Perhaps I might have some time with her before she dies?" He seated himself at the table, ignoring for the moment the possibility that all this might be a trap. He was committed to it now. "There is the little matter of her attack on me I'd like to address." He gave a snort of derision.

"Several attacks now, isn't it? Very well, you may do with her as you like as long as she dies. She cannot be allowed to rally support for Richard." John sighed softly. "A pity, really. She's a beautiful girl, or she would be if she hadn't hacked off all her hair. She'd give beautiful children. Unless of course they looked like you." He snorted a bit of laughter.

"Oh, she'll die. I just want to enjoy it." Guy sneered. "And after they're dead?"

"One thing. You keep saying you've gained their trust. How?"

Gisborne lifted his goblet in a mock toast. "I told you Marian would be useful. They think she's haunting me, that she's the reason behind my charitable behavior." He shrugged.

"You are a very, very devious creature, Gisborne," Prince John crowed. "Good. After they're dead, you and I will have a very, very profitable relationship, my friend. I will be King, when Richard is dead, and you will be in a high, high position."

"Then Richard is coming home." Gisborne fought down a visible reaction. "That's the last piece. With that information, I can not only bring them in, I can take their hope. They will die alone and without hope and that, that will be perfect." He raised his goblet again.

Robin gave the signal and they burst out of hiding to surround the rider, who reined in quickly to avoid running them down. "Robin!" he cried as he flung himself from the horse and they fell back, surprise and alarm warring with each other for position.

"Allan A Dale?" Robin's voice was soft as he moved forward to greet the other man. "You stayed in the Holy Land, why are you here?"

Allan gave Tom a wary look. "Who's that, then?" he growled softly. John gave him an answering snarl and Tom put a hand on the big man's chest to calm him. Robin would handle this.

"Tom's one of us, just like you," Robin said softly. For Allan to have come back, something was wrong.

Allan took him by the arm and led him a short way away and Robin's unease deepened. "Richard sent me, yeah? He's coming home but he don't want anyone to know it, not yet. He's got word Prince John's up to no good again, and he's gonna deal with it."

Robin nodded. "There's more than that, Allan, I know you. What else?" He knew something was terribly wrong for Richard to have sent word directly to him. Richard trusted Robin with his life, had for a long time; so he felt he needed protection.

Allan grimaced. "There's a girl, yeah? Thomasina of Sibley." He noted Robin's start of surprise but said nothing as yet. "Richard's afraid John'll try to use her against him. She's got lands and a pretty fortune that'd be a big help for either of them."

"He mentioned her by name?" Robin's mind was turning over quickly. "Why should one woman's fortune be such a big deal?"

"She's his bastard sister or something," Allan replied with a shrug. "But he's worried and he wants her found and protected."

"She's well protected. You can tell him that." Robin gave a wry smile. "Allan A Dale, meet Thomasina of Sibley, and Lady Gisborne." That would put a cat with the canary if what he suspected was true.

"Lady Gisborne? And you've got her with you?" Allan was appalled. If she was the knight's wife, how could they trust her? And Richard hadn't said anything about THAT, certainly.

"I've got a voice, thanks, and he might be my husband but that doesn't mean I even like him," Tom snapped quickly. "Ask Robin. I've already stabbed him once and I'll do it again if I get the chance."

Allan gave a bark of laughter. "I like you," he chortled. "Robin, he's landing at Loughton on Sunday. And he's headed directly here. He wants to confront John right away before he can weasel out of anything."

"Right. Allan, go back to Richard. Tell him we'll be there to meet him, he's not to leave Loughton until we get there. I wouldn't put it past John and Vaizey to send those black knights after him if they get wind of it." He'd told them of Gisborne's apparent change of heart; none of them really believed it but they'd accept Robin's judgment. "Tell him to stay hidden as much as possible. We'll find out what we can and bring him the information."

Allan mounted quickly. "I hope you know what you're doing," he said quietly. "There's not much time. I won't be able to keep him there long, you know how he is. But I'll tell him and I'll tell him she's well protected. But she won't be, yeah? You'll take her with you into the castle. Just be careful. Don't want to hear about any hangings, at least not yours."

He reined around and spurred away, taking only a moment to wave a farewell. "Come on," Robin said quickly. "Back to camp. We've got to get into the castle and find out what we can and for that we'll need more weapons." He was going to count on Gisborne keeping his word; he'd find the knight and see what he knew about this.

He drew Tom aside as the others filed past. "Did you know?" he asked simply.

"That I'm a royal brat?" she spat disgustedly. "Of course not, or this whole thing would have made a lot more sense to me. But if I'd thought about it, I might have. Richard and I have been friends since I was a child, and John always hated me." She shrugged. "It just didn't, and doesn't, matter to me. I'm Tom, that's all."

"Richard might have something more to say about it, but I won't," Robin stated quietly. "But you'll need more protection going into Nottingham now. I should leave you behind."

"I wouldn't stay. I'm one of you, Robin, you said it yourself." Now she was angry. "If you try to leave me behind, I'll just follow."

"I said I should, not that I was going to." He turned for the camp, knowing she'd keep pace with him though her legs were shorter. "Besides, I need you to show me this secret way in. We'll never get past the pickets."

"True." Tom stayed silent then until they were ready to leave the camp. "All right, listen up." She hunkered down in a bare spot, drawing lines with a little twig and knowing they were all watching. "The bartender at the Trip Inn thinks I'm one of the Sheriff's 'couriers' and he won't challenge me, not after what Guy did to get me out the last time. I've got a failsafe, apparently. However... getting you lot in will be a bit more difficult. So. Robin comes in with me, and you others, two at a time, at ten minute intervals. That should let me vouch for you when you come up, and the bartender won't care, really, if I cross his palm with a little silver. That gets us in. Getting out could be a bit more difficult."

"Getting out might be impossible," Will said softly.

"We'll get out." Robin didn't offer any explanations but the others always felt better when he had a plan, and he seemed to. Only Much regarded him quietly, concern in his eyes but unvoiced.

They entered Nottingham town in early afternoon. It was market day, which helped them to blend a bit once they had all come through the tunnel and true to Tom's word, the barkeep had said nothing once he'd been paid. They could have all come through together and he'd have kept silent, Robin thought idly as he led them through some of the streets. "Split up," he said quietly as they gathered near. "Meet back at the Inn at nightfall. We'll discuss everything once we're out of town. Tom, be extra careful, please."

"I won't go looking for him, if that's what you're worried about," she replied tightly. "Information gathering only."

"I go with her." John kept near her then, as they all separated to go different ways. The big man said little, leaving her to do the talking. She asked a few pointed questions and then drew him into a dark corner.

"What's wrong?" she demanded quietly as she put a hand on his chest. "You've been quiet since Allan – oh." Her face fell. "John, it changes nothing. I love you. I always will."

"But you're a princess." His words were equally soft.

"I am not." She touched his cheek, gently forcing him to face her. "I'm me, John. Just me. And I will always love you."

A commotion at the other end of the market caught their attention and she groaned as John hauled out his staff. Will and Djaq had been discovered and were trying to fight their way out. Her sword found its way to her hand and she threw herself forward, as did John.

It was a losing battle. Too many guards, and all of them heavily armed. They had still almost won their way free, were almost to the gates, when the archers came into play and John went down. Tom was immediately at his side with a cry, trying to staunch the flow of blood from the arrow embedded in his side, and the others fell into position to guard them while she tried to get him up.

Too late. Guards surrounded them and demanded that they move, and Tom helped John to stand as well as he was able. They were taken to the dungeons, where they found Much and Robin already in cells. Robin's face resembled a thundercloud and he sprang upward when the others were thrust in with them.

"They knew we were coming," he said as he helped John to sit against the wall. "We have to get out of here to warn Richard. Prince John knows he's coming. They're waiting for him."

John's breathing was raspy and Tom stayed beside him while Djaq worked. "It won't kill him," the woman remarked as she finally was able to withdraw it. "Keep pressure on it, it will slow the bleeding. He is lucky, it hit nothing important."

Tom kept pressure on the wound and tried to still her tears but they weren't listening. Close, so close he'd come to death.

Robin was pacing again and Much had his face pressed against the bars. "Hey!" he was yelling. "Hey!"

"Much, leave off," Robin growled as he slumped down against the wall to sit near John. "It won't do any good."

Voices sounded at the doorway and they all looked up as Gisborne and Vaizey stepped into the dungeons. "Well, well, well, look what we have here," the Sheriff drawled as he grinned at them through the bars. "A band of outlaws, doomed to swing. Oh, you've done well, Robin Hood, well indeed." He clapped a bit. "There's no hope for you now, none. All your people are in this little room, hm? Where's all that bravado, all that arrogance?"

Robin snarled wordlessly at him. Gisborne sneered. Tom looked up, her face wretched, and gave John's hand a reassuring squeeze before rising and going to the bars.

"Let them go," she said softly, watching Gisborne's face. If he wanted her friendship, he'd have it, if only he'd let them go. "Please. I'll give you what you want, what you need. Just let them go."

John snarled something from where he sat and Robin growled but she ignored them. Gisborne regarded her silently, as though assessing her sincerity. Vaizey watched them both. "Oh, isn't that sweet, Guy, she's trying to win you over with her charms," he oozed. "What are you going to do, hm? She's offering you everything."

Gisborne stepped back away from the bars, still sneering. "Hang her with the rest of them," he said idly.

She went white. Her dagger was in her sleeve as always but she hadn't the strength to throw it, so numb was she from shock. It hadn't occurred to her that he might refuse. He'd been so carefully kind to her, she'd thought – of course. It was part of the trap.

Vaizey turned and stalked to the door, followed closely by Gisborne. One last look passed between the knight and the outlaws, unreadable, and then they were gone. Tom went back to John's side, one hand on his brow and one holding his. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

"I love you," he breathed against her hair. "I have to say it now. Tomorrow's too late." He tried to sit up straighter and groaned. She put a hand on his chest.

"You never had to say it," she replied with a soft kiss. "I knew. It's all right."

Much threw himself down next to Robin. "You're surprisingly calm for someone who's about to die," he grumbled. "I suppose you have a plan. I hope you have a plan. Tell me you have a plan."

"I've got about half a plan, Much," Robin said with a grimace. "I need a little bit more time."

"Yes, well, don't take too long, then," the smaller man snorted. "There's a rope waiting for us in the morning. Not that you've forgotten that, mind you, but it's still there. And I for one don't fancy hanging."

"None of us do, Much," Robin snapped back. "Give me a little more time." But he stayed where he was, apparently lost in thought, until Much spoke again.

"About half a plan, you said?" he asked softly. "Which half, us getting out or us not getting out?"

"Much, shut up," John growled. He lay with his had in Tom's lap and she had her fingers in his hair, obviously trying to forget they were going to die, and soon. It wasn't too many more hours before dawn.

Robin rose when he heard a noise outside the doorway to the cells. The jailer was asleep, down the hall a ways; they could hear him snoring. Then the doorway opened and he breathed a sigh of relief. "I wasn't sure you were coming after all," he said quietly.

"I had to be sure they were asleep," was the calm response. The keys clicked in the cell door and it swung wide. "You'll have to move fast, the guards are making their rounds here in a few minutes. You can't be seen."

"He can't move very fast," Tom snarled from John's side. "He's got a hole in him. It's still bleeding, a bit."

Djaq took her arm and let Will get under one side of the big man and Robin grabbed John's other arm, slinging it over his shoulder. "We'll move as fast as we can. We need horses."

"Inside the west courtyard. The guards there will be called away in about ten minutes, when it's discovered you're not in your cell." Gisborne got them into the corridor. "You need to get word to King Richard. John knows he's landing Sunday in Loughton. Get him to land somewhere else, before it's too late. The black knights are rallying."

"Come with us." Robin's voice was soft but insistent. "You can't stay here now. They'll kill you. You're the only one who could have let us out."

The alarm was being raised and Gisborne's head whipped around when he heard Vaizey shouting for him to be found. "Seems you're right." He got under the arm Will was holding. "I'm taller, we can move faster this way. West courtyard, if they haven't already found the exit."

There were seven horses tethered to a rough picket just inside of the west gate. "Quickly." He helped Robin get John on one of the horses and then lifted Tom to another. She would have hit him if the situation wasn't so dire. She didn't want him to touch her. But he was helping them! She hated being confused.

By the time they were moving, the archers were lining up. Arrows began to fall around them as they galloped away, and more than one grunt was heard when one found a target. But no one fell from the saddle, and no one hinted that it was more than a light strike, so they kept on, until they reached the relative safety of the forest.


	17. Chapter 17

They got John into the camp with a little difficulty. He'd lost enough blood that he was weak, and as a big man, he was hard to handle. But they got him inside nonetheless and onto his pallet. Tom knelt beside him, her face pale, holding his hand. He touched her cheek. "I'll be fine," he said simply and she nuzzled into the caress.

Gisborne watched them, his own heart twisting. She wasn't his, even if she was bound to him. Another woman he wanted and couldn't have. But this time, he vowed, this time things would be different. And she wouldn't die by his hand.

Robin touched his shoulder. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry," he said easily. "You shouldn't have had to come with us."

"I always intended to," the knight replied quietly as he turned away. He couldn't watch his wife with the other man, watch the love she obviously felt for John. The love he'd hoped she might eventually come to feel for him. No, he couldn't watch it. "Especially when they told me Richard was coming home. He has to be warned." He looked over to the east. "It's nearly dawn. We need to be moving. They'll be on the road to Loughton already."

Robin nodded. "John can't travel," he said softly, "and we need Tom with us. Djaq!"

The girl came over from where she'd been tending John's wound. "He cannot ride much further," she said quietly. "He won't die, but he's going to be weak for a while. He would not be able to fight."

"Stay with him. Will, too. I need to know he's safe." Robin put a hand on her arm. "Tom, Much, let's go. There's no time."

Tom pressed a quick kiss to John's lips. "I'll be back," she murmured and he nodded.

"Be careful," he replied just as softly and then Tom was moving with them to the horses.

"It's going to be a race," Robin growled as they mounted and headed off. "And we have to get there first. If Richard comes ashore with them waiting for him -"

"Then stop talking and ride harder." Much put spurs to his horse, taking the lead, surprising them all.

It took some time. They had to slow down occasionally to rest the horses, and each time, Robin fretted more. His unease spread to the others; each one of them was in a state of total nerves by the time Loughton was in sight.

They were passed into the town on the strength of Gisborne's name, and they went straight to the harbor where the King's ship lay offshore, patently waiting. Gisborne started shouting orders, demanding fortifications in the obvious places and a few that weren't so obvious. "I'll see to this, you see to the King," he said quietly as he held Tom's horse for her to dismount.

She got down quickly, resisting the urge to growl at him again. She wasn't helpless! On the other hand, it was a kindness. Then she fell in step with Robin once more. "You told me in no uncertain terms not to trust him," she hissed as soon as they were out of earshot. "I hope you know what you're doing."

Robin hailed the guards at the pier. "I hope so, too. But having him here, we can keep an eye on him." He gestured behind to the shadow following Gisborne's every move. "Much is very, very good at this."

Tom had to give the man marks for subtlety; she wouldn't have seen him if she hadn't known he was there. And that was miraculous, considering the way he loved to talk. "Where are we going?"

"We'll have to board ship," he answered quietly. "Richard hasn't come ashore; hopefully he got wind of some of this and stayed aboard ship for that reason. At any rate, we've got to talk to him before Prince John's Black Knights get here. Richard's walking into a trap."

"We can't allow that." Tom had a hand on her sword. She waited patiently, watching around while Robin spoke to the oarsman of a nearby longboat, securing passage out to the King's ship. "Hurry. It's getting light, they won't be far behind us."

He gestured for her to get in and she did so, but she was scared. She couldn't swim and being in this much water scared her to death. Then they were being helped aboard the ship and placed under guard. "We don't have time for this!" Robin exploded. "King Richard's in danger. Tell him Robin of Locksley's come to protect him. Thomasina of Sibley is with me."

One man went for the King while the others simply guarded Robin and Tom. They weren't able to move a foot in any direction without either being in the water or stuck on someone's sword. It was nearly intolerable to Robin, who'd come with only good intentions. Finally, after some minutes, the messenger came back and indicated that they were to follow.

"Finally!" Robin breathed. Tom kept quiet. Something was wrong, she thought suddenly. The messenger they'd sent to the King said nothing, wouldn't even look at them. But then they were ushered into Richard's presence and she forgot everything else.

Richard had been her friend since she was a child; she would know him anywhere, even after a long time not seeing his face. She smiled widely, but he barely acknowledged her presence. What was wrong? "It seems you always come to my defense, Robin," he said tightly as he gestured for Robin to rise from his kneeling position. "But I must confess to some confusion. You have brought a known assassin to assist you?" He inclined his head. "Gisborne has tried to kill me at least twice and you've brought him with you to protect me?" He gestured again and the knight was brought in, tightly bound. "Explain yourself, quickly."

"It's difficult to believe, Your Majesty, but he HAS changed," Robin began quietly. "We wouldn't even be here without his help. Prince John and Sheriff Vaizey had captured us, meant to hang us. Gisborne got us out at great personal risk." Could they trust him? He was hoping so. That he had helped them meant a lot; that he still mourned Marian in such a way meant even more. There had to be a show of trust. "The people of Locksley tell a similar tale, of how he's changed, become kinder, less cruel."

"And do you trust him?" Richard wasn't backing down. The man was a menace, dangerous and had been known to slither his way out of punishments for past misdeeds with words pitched to the right ears. But he gave a small smile to Thomasina then, and she was a little reassured.

Robin didn't hesitate. "He had ample opportunity on the journey here to do us harm, and instead he protected us." He didn't mention Much; if Richard hadn't seen him, then there was still someone keeping watch, standing guard, that he trusted. For all his words, he wasn't COMPLETELY sure of Gisborne's loyalty yet. It was why he'd set Much to shadow him.

"And yet you have another watching him." Richard grinned then. "You always were shrewd. No possibility overlooked. Very well, release him." He gestured over to Gisborne who was cut free. "Come, break fast with me. We can discuss your warning." He glared at Gisborne for a moment. "If you prove false, sir knight, hanging will seem positively pleasant compared to what we will do to you."

Thomasina took a seat down the table from them, giving them privacy, but Richard gestured her closer with a small smile. "Did you think I would forget my friend?" he asked softly. "But other things must come first, I'm afraid. Now, you will tell me everything and how you came to be in my most staunch defender's company."

They passed a few pleasant moments before she finally did tell him, enjoying the food and the company. Once she'd explained about John's plots, about her marriage to Gisborne, he went cold and silent for several long moments. "We will think on this and how we must proceed," he said slowly. But anything else he might have said was swallowed up by a cry of alarm from the deck and then the violent pitching of the ship.

They swarmed up on deck where Richard started shouting orders. Archers took places at the bow of the ship, firing toward the assaulting trebuchets, some finding targets with their longbows but most falling short. Robin's recurve was in hand, and the others had grabbed spares, but another near miss rocked the craft enough to send several tumbling into the water, including Gisborne and Tom.

If they'd been in armor, like some of the men in the water, they would have drowned without a doubt, pulled under by the weight. Guy was able to get an arm under her despite her panicked struggles and support her to shore, some yards distant. They crawled up on the stony beach, retching and trying desperately to breathe.

As soon as he caught his breath, he got a hand under her elbow and helped her stand. "We need to silence these trebuchets," he growled and she nodded. She was still struggling to breathe and he gave her a look. "If you're not up to it -"

"Let's go," she snarled back. Being so close to him was not her first choice of places to be but it was necessary and he HAD saved her life. Again. She supposed she should be a bit nicer to him once this was all over.

"You go left. Don't hesitate. Use that dagger, kill the operators. Then we'll fire them." He touched her face. She might not be his, but he'd still worry. "Be careful."

She shrugged off the caress and nodded before darting off to the side. She was quick with her dagger, slitting throats the way her father had taught her and regretting every life lost. It took some time to be stealthy; but soon it was done. Then she dashed out to find her husband where he was working on the second weapon.

He'd found a bucket of pitch and was smearing it along the wood, then fired it. "Here." He handed her the torch and helped her to take care of that one as well.

Longboats were coming ashore, shields positioned to protect against the archers who had moved into position. Richard was well protected, but the ship was sinking. One of the last shots from the trebuchets had scored a hit.

That they would no longer be useful even if not burned didn't matter. It had been necessary to destroy them as a preventive measure. Now, it would be close in fighting.

How many men had Prince John recruited to his cause? Tom was despairing at the sight of so many, many men fighting against those loyal to the King. She threw herself into the fray, knowing she didn't have the finesse she might need but not caring. These men threatened her King and she wasn't going to allow it.

Guy kept close to her as they moved back down the waterfront, rejoining Robin with the King's personal guard. He liberated a crossbow, using it to deadly effect. He climbed to a rooftop, stationing himself above them to offer cover fire.

Richard kept himself visible but well protected, and Robin was nearby until a shout from Much warned him and he spun, barely avoiding the sword that was intended for his skull. Much launched himself from Robin's right, bashing the attacker with his shield and then moving back to back with his friend, defending him.

A familiar roar of rage came from behind them and Tom's heart lurched before pounding again in apprehension. If he'd been as badly hurt as Djaq said, he couldn't have followed them, could he?

John plowed through some of the enemy, his staff flashing out, slamming men aside as he used it to deadly effect. He was slower, but he was moving, and Tom leaped to guard his back as one of the enemy tried to put a sword through it. Then battle was joined again and she saw Djaq and Will as well before becoming completely consumed again with keeping herself and John alive.

A voice rose clear above the swordplay and as one, they turned to see Vaizey and Prince John on one of the battlements, and Vaizey had a crossbow trained on Richard. Prince John was smirking. "You've lost, Richard, you sanctimonious sod! You're surrounded, outnumbered, outmatched, you're done. Give me the crown and I'll let you live."

Robin looked up, as did the others. Gisborne was nowhere to be seen and the archer felt bitter betrayal twist into his guts. Then he saw the knight, a few buildings away, his crossbow trained on the King, and he roared defiance as his own bow raised.

A crossbow bolt from across the square took him in the shoulder and he dropped, but didn't stay down. Much lent him as much support as possible, and the others ranged in support of their King, trying to keep themselves between the obvious weapons and Richard. Richard shook his head. "You are not fit for the crown, brother. Give up now and I will be merciful."

"Gisborne!" Vaizey called. "Do it now! Just as we planned, and you'll have everything you ever wanted!"

All eyes went to the knight, whose expression was flat and cold. They saw his finger tightening on the trigger, and then the unthinkable happened.

In one swift move, the weapon shifted as it fired and the bolt took Vaizey in the chest, sending him backward to crumple against the wall. "I've made my choice!" Gisborne snarled in the ensuing silence. "For King Richard!"

The battle was joined again, but this time, the defenders of the King were winning. Other fighters joined in, knights, soldiers, peasants, anyone who could wield a weapon of any sort sprang into the fray, with cries of "For King Richard!" and "For England!" thrown liberally around.

Prince John disappeared from the battlements, and Gisborne came down to lend his sword to the King's defense. It was nearly over, the sounds of battle dying down as more and more of the enemy yielded to the determined onslaught of those loyal to Richard.

The battle was finally winding down. No one knew where Prince John had disappeared to when he retreated from the battlements; but the rest of the attackers were on the run or yielding to their King in hopes of gaining mercy.

Each of the gang was sporting injuries, but none life threatening. Cuts, bruises, and Robin's shoulder were the worst of it. Richard had them all gathered around him where he finally called a halt in the middle of the courtyard.

Richard was addressing his people, promising mercy for those who threw down their arms and death to those who still opposed him. John and Tom were together, simply holding each other, glad to be alive. Robin watched Gisborne, who seemed a bit less forbidding than usual, and Much watched both of them, carefully considering. Will and Djaq moved among them, Djaq checking injuries and Will offering his support and assistance where needed.

Things had settled down quite a bit when Guy saw a motion in a window and threw himself sideways in front of Richard as the dagger missed its mark and instead buried itself to the hilt in his side. He went to the ground even as Robin's recurve twanged and Prince John's body fell from an upper story window.

Richard gestured for the bearers to take him up. "There's a makeshift hospital at the edge of the square," he said simply. "Take him there. We'll follow."


	18. Chapter 18

Several days later, after the dead had been seen to and those that would live had been tended, Richard summoned them all to his presence once more.

Gisborne was up and moving, though he would be slowed for some time as the dreadful wound healed. It had been touch and go for a while; the blade hadn't damaged anything vital but the wound was deep and had it had been difficult to avoid infection around the stitches.

John, also, was still moving slow. Tom rarely left his side, preferring to help him along when he'd allow it. When asked why he had come to join the fight while so badly wounded in the first place, he'd simply shrugged. "If we were going to die, I wanted it to be together," he'd answered quietly.

Robin still sported a sling to support his damaged shoulder. The injury had been made worse by his drawing of the bow to kill Prince John; but he couldn't have done nothing. It would take several weeks yet to knit completely.

Richard allowed them to rise and regarded them all steadily. "You have been my staunchest allies, my best defenders," he said slowly. "Each of you deserves reward for what you have done. Sir Guy of Gisborne, we will begin with you." He watched the knight for a moment. "You have, in the past, attempted to kill me, and yet at the end nearly gave your life for mine. For that, all past transgressions are forgiven. Have you anything to ask of me?"

Guy lowered his head for a moment, obviously thinking. Thomasina could still open doors for him, still offer him power and wealth, if she'd accept it. He knew she never would, and he had no right to ask that of her. Her love for the big woodsman was painfully obvious to all. "Just this, Your Majesty, if you would. Thomasina and I were married for the wrong reasons, and I would set that right. Dissolve this union, allow her to be free."

There was a surprised intake of breath from where she stood on his left but no other reaction. Richard considered carefully for a moment. "I will think on this," he said finally. He, too, had seen the way she regarded John and he wanted to be sure he did the right thing. "Robin, Earl of Huntington, Lord of Locksley Manor, your lands are restored to you. Hold them in my name and continue to serve me well. Djaq, is it?" He held out a hand to her. "You are not of my people, and yet you have helped them full willing. What do you wish of England in return?"

"Nothing," was the firm reply. "You have made peace with my people, or at least withdrawn your army. That is enough." She smiled slightly for him as she took Will's hand.

"Each of you deserves far more than I can give," Richard said quietly. "For your services, each of you shall have lands, and you shall look to Locksley for leadership. He will decide which lodges each of you will control." He looked to Thomasina. "Your husband has set you free, if you wish it," he said slowly. "But your lands and dowry would remain with him. If you object, tell me now." He didn't think she would.

Tom looked over at her John where he stood silent, watching her. "I don't object," she said softly. "I've no need for such things, truly. I'm happy where my heart is, with John." She took his hand and gave Gisborne an apologetic glance. "For what it's worth, I didn't give you much of a chance," she said softly. "I should be sorry for that, but I can't be. What passed between us, I can't forget. I forgive you for your part in it, and for how you hurt me. But I can't forget."

Guy gave her a head shake. "Nor should you. If I've learned anything from this, it's that not everyone is as they seem; and not everything should be believed at face value. Perhaps someday there can at least be peace between us."

Richard nodded slowly. "Then let it be so," he said quietly. "Go home, all of you. I may call upon you again at need. You have my eternal thanks."

Robin threw his arm around Much's shoulders as they departed. "If I remember right, you were looking at Bonchurch," he said lightly. "I think sir Guy could be persuaded to allow that to you, yes?"

Gisborne gave them a mock growl, but inwardly was pleased. He would have allies on his borders if he did so, and there was more than enough for them all. That Richard had granted the former outlaws lands and status wasn't lost on him; but he was finding that power and wealth weren't everything. Sometimes, it just came down to what was right. And he was glad he'd found his way before it was too late.

It would take days for them to set everything up, but for now – for now, they were content, all of them.

They were Robin Hood.

~fin~


End file.
